Wooden Promises Can Lead To Future Curses

by Selene Illusinia

A chance encounter in the woods. Ward and Skye aren't the strangers they thought they were when they met inside the plane. Please note, the Skyeward part of this is in the second half of the story and not the first.

Three months. He'd been in these damn woods for three months, alone, except for Buddy. What the hell had he gotten himself into? There was no way this was legit. Then again, this is what he got for trusting anyone (though to his credit, Garrett had said not to trust him). And hey, at least he was free, right? It was better than prison. Knowing his family, it would have been prison for life, too. At least whatever would have been left of his.

Glancing at Buddy, he reached out to scratch behind the lab's ears. Idly, the dog glanced up at him but otherwise didn't react. It was pretty common for Buddy: if Grant was calm, the dog was too. And sitting in front of his small camp fire, just trying to relax as night settled around them, it was easy to see why Buddy was so calm. Even Grant was starting to settle in for the night. Sleep was still a hard thing for him, but he managed all the same.

The usual sounds of night were beginning to settle in around them, lulling him into what was becoming a routine evening. Which is why Grant nearly jumped when Buddy's head suddenly shot up, his ears up and the hackles on his neck standing on end. The lab didn't make any sort of motion like he was going to attack, but something had clearly set him off and Buddy's sudden tension put Grant completely on alert.

For a moment, he held his breath and strained to hear something, anything that might indicate Buddy's sudden alertness. Whatever it was probably wasn't an animal- Buddy didn't usually react that way to animals. They were in the middle of the woods after all; animals are everywhere. Maybe he would get lucky and that bastard Garrett was finally coming back. Maybe they were getting out of this place at last.

It took a moment, but the sound of rustling branches, crunching boots, and quiet cursing carried through on the wind rather than the sound of tires and crunching earth. Not the sounds of a truck, but the sounds of someone blundering their way through woods they weren't familiar with. Someone who was heading his direction.

Everything in Grant's head screamed at him to run- run as far away as he could, as fast as he could. What if it was guards from the prison? Or his brother somehow managed to track him to this remote place? But that same voice reminded it could be the man who left him here still, approaching on foot rather than by car, and that was someone he wouldn't mind seeing again if only so he could beat the crap out of him. Seriously, who abandoned a 15 year old kid, unprepared, in the middle of the woods?

Buddy's fur stood up on end as the stumbling and cursing continued to inch closer with each passing second. Despite everything in Grant telling him to run (because he could tell by now that voice didn't belong to Garrett), he stayed put. Whoever this was, whatever this was, he'd meet it head on. He could only hear one person and anyone trying to sneak up on him would be doing a significantly better job that this. Literally, it sounded like an elephant stumbling through a glass factory.

A sudden, startled cry cut through the air, followed immediately by the sound of a small body hitting the ground, throwing both Buddy and Grant into defense mode. Grant grabbed the first thing he could reach that could be used as a weapon; it was a hatchet he'd stolen from an empty cabin near by. It wasn't strong but it worked in a pinch and more than one rabbit had fallen to it's sharp edge.

The crashing continued for a second longer before a body suddenly crashed into the clearing he was using for a camp site. His 'guest', whoever it was, rolled over several times before finally crashing to a stop at the edge of the fire's light. For a long moment, both Grant and Buddy stood frozen on alert and ready to move if need be. But their guest didn't move an inch except to groan.

A once over of the body currently laying feet from the fire confirmed the individual was a kid; no one old enough to be anyone who would be looking for him. Well, that was a relief at least. He was disappointed it wasn't Garrett, but he could make do. The biggest question now was who his guest was and what they were doing running around in the woods this late at night.

"Easy Buddy," assured Grant as he set the hatchet down and headed towards where the kid lay. Whoever this was might be hurt or require medical attention. No other sounds echoed out of the woods, so it was pretty safe to assume they were here alone. It was hard to say how old the kid was given they were currently face-down on the ground, but he could see a whole mess of dark hair and what looked like a backpack slung over their back. A runaway then? Some kid sick of their home looking to make it in the woods?

His unwanted guest rolled over suddenly when he was only inches away, her eyes blinking up at the sky for a moment before rolling to look at him. He'd been right when he said she was young, but it was hard to say how young. She looked 9, maybe 10. Big brown eyes stared at him from a slightly chubby face that still spoke of childhood, but the grim set of her mouth and hardened look in her gaze said she'd seen more than a kid her age should have. It was a look similar to the one Grant had started seeing every time he looked in the mirror when he was 9.

"Wow, I didn't expect someone else out here." Her voice was high, too high for a teenagers or even a proper preteen. Okay, so definitely still a kid, even if she was just barely one. Pushing herself to sit up, she rubbed at her arm like she was in pain as her eyes darted around the camp curiously. "I'm gonna guess you aren't camping."

"Not really my idea of fun," admitted Grant, still blinking down at her uncertainly. Who was this girl and why was she running through the woods in the middle of the night? Whatever her reasons, they couldn't be good. He needed those answers here, fast. If there was anyone after her, his location could be compromised. "Kind of like falling down a hill in the dark."

"It wasn't so bad until I hit the ground," stated the girl with a shrug, pushing herself carefully to her feet and shrugging off her backpack. Her eyes landed on Buddy almost immediately, the dog having fallen silent as soon as Grant approached her. He was just watching the two of them now, head cocked curiously to the side. "Cute dog. Does he bite?"

"I've never seen him bite anyone," replied Grant uncertainly, snapping his fingers for Buddy to come. The golden lab raised his head slightly before ambling to his feet and padding towards them calmly. His head brushed against Grant's outstretched hand as soon as he was near, calming Grant as his fingers slid through the fur on Buddy's head. Something about the contact soothed his nerves; it reminded him that he wasn't alone in the woods or the world.

"Can I pet him?" requested the girl, looking hopefully at Grant. Buddy tilted his head a little more when she spoke, his eyes falling on her curiously.

For a moment, Grant debated how wise it would be to let an unknown girl pet Buddy. He didn't want someone to spook the dog or for them to be found before Garrett got back. That man had some things to answer for. He was going to say no, he really was, but when her eyes met his, he caved. Something about her echoed something inside of him; she reminded him of his sister, and he'd do anything to make his sister happy. "Yeah, just don't move suddenly. Hold out your fist first, that's how you pet a dog. Give them your fist first so if they try to bite you, you don't loose a finger."

"Seriously?" asked the girl curiously. She folded her fingers into a fist, holding it out for Buddy all the same. It was weird, watching someone do something because he told them to. His little brother had done that before and it always brought a sensation of warm pride flowing through him. Helping someone else though, teaching them something new, it was something he didn't get to do enough of but wanted to all the same.

For a moment, Buddy eyed her fist like he wasn't sure what she was going to do. It only took a second for him to nuzzle the closed fingers though, warming up almost immediately to the kid. She giggled as Buddy's tongue slid out to lick her fingers, just before his head bumped against her closed fist. Almost immediately, she unfurled her fingers to run the tips against his head. Buddy's only response was a content noise before he moved to lean against the girl, nearly toppling her.

The sight brought a smile to Grant's lips. It was odd to feel the pull of muscles again for the first time in months, but it was a welcome sensation all the same. "So, who are you anyway?"

For a second, the girl's fingers stopped their gentle motion against Buddy's head, an action he protested by pushing up against her hand. Almost immediately her fingers began moving again, eyes remaining on Buddy as she spoke. It was like she was introducing herself to the dog instead. "Mary. I'm Mary-Sue Poots. I know, ridiculous name."

Yeah, it was. But was also a cute name and somehow it suited her. Maybe because she looked like a little doll. "Cute name."

"Your sarcasm is overwhelmingly appreciated," replied Mary dryly, rolling her eyes as she spoke. "So what's yours? Fair's fair, after all."

Fair's fair? Nothing was fair, he'd learned that already. Mary hadn't though; she was still young. So he stuck out his hand for her to shake if she wanted to, giving her his first name alone. His last name wasn't something he wanted to keep; it was a reminder of who he was before and where he came from, both things he wanted to forget. This was a new life, new freedom. A new chance. "I'm Grant."

"Just Grant?" teased Mary, patting Buddy one more time before she dropped her hand to her side and returned her focus to him at last.

"Just Grant," confirmed Grant, eyes falling to the forest floor as he dropped his hand. He didn't want to look at her in that moment, though he couldn't explain why. She'd given him her full name and he wasn't even man enough to utter his father's name in return.

"Okay Just Grant," stated Mary with a shrug. The motion caused her to wince, immediately throwing Grant onto high alert. She'd tumbled down a hill; there was bound to be some damage and here he was, twiddling his thumbs like some idiot.

Immediately, he motioned for her to sit down, brow furrowing in worry. "You should sit, that fall was pretty bad. What hurts? I know something has to."

"My shoulder kinda does," admitted Mary, shrugging a bit again but remaining standing all the same. "I'll be fine though. It's not a big deal."

"You shouldn't just let it ache," admonished Grant gently, motioning for her to sit again. "It'll just get worse."

"I've had worse," countered Mary. "I promise, I can handle it."

Sighing, Grant straightened up and dropped back into one of the chairs around the fire. Every part of him wanted to argue with her about this, but it would be as pointless as arguing with his siblings when they refused to take care of themselves. So he poked at the fire instead and tried to stop worrying. Too bad the part of him that made him an older brother didn't want to let the matter die.

A moment later, he heard Mary shifting around a few seconds before she dropped into the chair beside his own. Her legs didn't even touch the ground, hanging inches from the dirt he'd cleared to ensure he wouldn't start a forest fire by accident. She didn't look at him once she was seated though, her eyes remaining focused on the fire in front of them. "So, what are you doing out here? Did you run away too?"

"I'm training," replied Grant with a shrug, trying not to think of Garrett's promise to return in a couple of weeks. That time had already long passed.

He'd been planning to give Garrett one more day to send some kind of message or show up in person, if only so he could punch the man. Garrett might have broken him out of prison, but he only owed the man so much for that. And leaving him in the woods like this? That debt was quickly running out. Why should he trust some man who showed up to break him out of prison, only to dump him in the woods with no supplies, no support, only a dog? Yeah, Buddy was better company than any person Grant had ever met, but he was still a dog. Hell, Grant could have been in Canada by now if he'd made a break for it sooner. Not that he knew what he'd do with himself in Canada, but he could have done something.

And that was really the crux of this whole matter: he didn't have anywhere to go. Garrett had been the only outside support he'd known of. Without Garrett, he had no one except himself, and that was fine and dandy here, but he'd probably get picked up almost immediately once he left the woods. Garrett hadn't even told him the name of this organization he supposedly worked for, so it wasn't like Grant could look him up in the phone book. Not that secret organizations were usually in the phone book, but a name would be something to work with.

"What are you training for?" Mary's question broke his thoughts about Garrett and escape like a baseball bat against a crystal bowl. Almost immediately, his focus returned to the young girl sitting beside him. Her eyes had left the fire at last, head tilted to the side as she watched him with open curiosity. "Is this some guy thing?"

"No," replied Grant, shaking his head. "Most guys don't do this alone. Not for this long."

Furrowing her brow a little, Mary leaned closer to the fire, holding out her hands for warmth. The chill of the evening was beginning to settle in. He'd need to get in the sleeping bag he'd been using soon. He'd have to get out of here before winter came or find some kind of a permanent shelter. Something to keep him at least moderately warm. If that cabin was still abandoned, he could take the risk of staying there, but it was a huge risk he didn't really relish the thought of. Maybe he could build a cabin of his own? Would that work? How would he even do that?

"So what are you training for, then?" asked Mary again, her eyes leaving the fire to glance at him. Between them, Buddy padded over and sat down, wagging his tail a little.

Looking at Mary, Grant felt himself relax a little. She's a kid, but she's also someone he could talk to. And after three months alone, that was a welcome break. Letting his gaze slide back to the fire, he shrugged a little. "I'm training to join an organization."

"An organization?" repeated Mary curiously. "Like a club?"

"Kind of," confirmed Grant, glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes. "What are you doing out here?"

Mary shifted a little uncomfortably at his question, glancing up at the sky like she didn't want to meet his eyes. "It's a nice night, I wanted a walk."

"kids don't go for walks on their own at night," countered Grant in clear disbelief. He could tell she was lying just by the fact that she was looking up at the sky. It's what his little brother had always done when he was lying. "You're running away."

For a moment, she was silent as she continued to stare up at the sky. Then her eyes dropped down to the fire again, before looking back at Grant. "So what? You're alone out here. If I wanna be alone in the woods, I can be. There's nothing wrong with that."

Grant felt his brow furrow at the defensive tone to her voice. That couldn't be good; it was never good when people got defensive. Trying to force himself to relax in hopes she would do the same, Grant reached between them to scratch Buddy's head. For a long moment, he tried to think of a good way to ask why, but nothing came to mind. He never had been good at asking the hard questions. Sighing, he dropped the question and hoped she wouldn't be offended. "What are you running from?"

Again, she was silent for a long moment. Her eyes remained on the fire, even as her fingers twitched. Her feet swung idly, nervously. It made Grant tense again. Just the thought she might be running from something even remotely like his own home churned his stomach.

"I was fostered by a family. They were talking about adopting me. Then tonight, I heard them on the phone with the orphanage. They're sending me back because I'm 'not a good fit'. Again." Her eyes rose from the fire, tear filled and confused. "This has happened seven times now and I just- I don't get what I'm doing wrong."

Grant felt his heart break at the look that crossed her face. It was like watching someone have their world torn apart, and he had no clue what to do. No one had ever told him what to do to comfort a crying girl. Yeah, he knew how to comfort his sister but, well, she was his twin sister, not some random kid who'd wondered into his camp site. Taking a deep breath, he hoped what worked on his sister would work on Mary. Turning to her, he reached over and carefully drew her into a hug while mentally praying she wouldn't flip out at him. "Hey, it's- it's okay. You're gonna be okay."

Both of Mary's arms flew around his body, her shoulders shaking as whatever she was using to hold herself together snapped. The pressure of her arms around his torso shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did and for a moment he half expected the panic to set it. But the fear that had swept over his body more than once at the feel of another person's touch never came. Instead, he felt worry like the kind he'd always held for his siblings and a drive to protect the girl he was holding at all costs.

So he sat there for what felt like ages, holding the crying girl and just trying to sooth her. He couldn't claim to care about her- he barely knew who she was (a name wasn't exactly much), but the part of him that was a brother, the part that was driven to protect everyone else around him, was kicking up a massive storm. He sat with Mary half in his lap until her soft cries turned to sniffles and finally even breathing. It was only then that he pulled back enough to see her face.

Tear-stained, puffy eyes looked up at him wetly in thanks, even as she pulled further back and reseated herself in the camp chair. "Thanks." The word was broken, syllables whispered across cracking vocal cords. Without a thought, Grant passed her the water bottle he'd swiped from the abandoned cabin on his way out- another minor thing that wouldn't be missed.

She took a long drink from the bottle, passing it back with another quiet 'thanks' and a grateful smile. He took the bottle back with just a nod, tucking it back beside his chair and noting it was about half full. It wasn't a big deal- it just meant he needed to refill it. He had plans for a water tank, just because he was so sick of hauling water all the time. The nearest source wasn't far but he had to boil everything before he drank it, so he needed to do that before he ran out of water.

Small sniffles and hiccups echoed from her chair, indicating she still wasn't exactly calm. It made Grant want to gather her back up and just hug her until she felt better. He didn't think before the next words were out of his mouth. "I'd keep you if I could adopt you."

"Huh?" asked Mary quietly, sniffling as she wiped her eyes. Those large, brown eyes met his across the space between the chairs. "What do you mean?"

His eyes fell to the fire, embarrassment turning his cheeks bright red. That sounded weird, he realized: some 15 year old kid telling another kid he'd adopt her if he was old enough to. It wasn't supposed to be weird though; she seemed like a good kid and if he were old enough to adopt a child, if he could adopt her if only to protect her from whatever pain she was having to go through, he would. If he could protect her, he would. Maybe he should clarify that. "If I were an adult and could adopt you, give you a home and keep you safe, I would do it."

Half of him expected her to bolt out of his camp sight and go run to an adult. That's what he'd do if someone said that to him. She didn't even know him and he was claiming he'd adopt her, what the hell was he thinking? It didn't matter if it was true or if it was mostly because he knew what kind of hell a home could be. Just because he wanted to protect her didn't mean he got to be creepy about it.

He heard her as she shifted around next to him; heard it when she climbed out of her chair and closed his eyes in a wince. Great, the first person he's talked to in months and he scared her away. He'd sounded like some creepy, messed up kid. He'd sounded like his brother. The thought made his stomach churn violently.

"Thank you." Mary's voice came from right in front of Grant, startling him enough that he jumped. His eyes flew open to find her kneeling in front of him, no fear in sight. Honesty, sincerity, and gratitude radiated from her face, dispelling any disgust he'd felt with himself a moment before. He'd actually helped someone. He'd given a person hope. Him. The man who had been unable to protect anyone before now.

Watching in awe as she settled back on her heels, he tried to think of something to say. But Mary wasn't done yet, and when she started to speak again he quickly closed his mouth. "I know you can't adopt me. You don't even know anything about me, so you have no way of knowing you'd actually want to adopt me. But just hearing from someone that they'd want to...thank you. You're a good man."

Her words floored him and Grant found himself struggling to find the words he wanted. Words he could use to response to her statement. It took a few tries, which she patiently sat waiting through, before he could get anything out. "You're welcome." Clearing his throat, he glanced down towards the fire. "But you're wrong about one thing: I'm not a good man. Not yet."

"No, you are," insisted Mary, shaking her head firmly. The flash of her hair caught the light of the fire, and when he looked back at her, her eyes almost looked as if they were glowing in the dark. "You're a good man. I can see it."

Shifting uncomfortably, Grant thought of every time he'd let his brother get beaten up because he was afraid. Of every insult his twin endured because he wasn't strong enough to take down their dad. Every bruise and break he couldn't prevent. No, he wasn't a good man. He wasn't a brave man. He wasn't a strong man. He was a weak, cowardly, fool who couldn't even remove one of the sources of his sibling's pain.

"I haven't been the best person," murmured Grant, his fingers tightening against his legs as the screams of his brother and sister echoed around in his skull. He was weak now, but he wouldn't be this way forever. He would become a man. Garrett had promised that. "But I'm going to change that. Some day, I'm going to work to protect everyone."

"Everyone?" asked Mary quietly, eyes going wide as she leaned forward to listen to him.

Grant nodded, looking towards her again even as he reached out to pat the chair beside his. "Everyone who deserves to be protected, the people who can't protect themselves." He watched as she climbed back into the chair beside him, swearing in his mind she'd be one of the people he'd protect. "People like my little brother and you."

"Hey!" objected Mary, giving him an affronted look. "I can protect myself! I'm tougher than I look."

Smiling a little, Grant reached out to ruffle her hair. It made his heart swell a little seeing how independent she was. How hard she was trying to be brave even though her world was always changing. But even he knew there were monsters out there someone needed to stand up to so people like her could keep being brave. "I'm sure you can, but everyone needs to be protected sometimes."

Pouting a little, she fixed her hair. He watched then as the pout faded into a smirk-like grin. "Well, maybe someday I'll be the one protecting you!"

The faint smile that had been painted on Grant's face fell nearly immediately at her words. His fingers tightened a little at the thought of her going through this 'training' Garrett had started him on. He never wanted to think about her being alone, fending for herself like he was for even half a minute. "I hope not. This is training for what I'm going to do some day and I don't want you to ever face this."

Her shoulders fell with her smirk, brow furrowing and eyes turning sad. "But if I want to?"

Without thinking about it, Grant reached over to pull Mary into another hug. Silently, he prayed someone would take her in and keep her away from the world he was facing. Keep her safe for the rest of her life and shield her from the truth of the world. In his heart, he knew someone would protect her from everything someday. "You're young, Mary. You have a chance. Someone will keep you someday; you'll find someone who loves you."

Like before, Mary wrapped her arms around his torso in a tight hug. Her head nestled against his chest, body so small she could fit in his lap. Like Dana could when he was younger. Part of Grant wanted to pull her into his lap and just hold her like he had his younger brother so many times. Keep her safe in a way he'd never been able to before. "You're a good man, Grant."

"Someday, I'll be a better one," murmured Grant quietly, a promise to both her and himself. He'd do whatever it took to become a man who could protect everyone. Do whatever he needed to so he could become the man he wanted to be.

He held her for a moment, relishing the contact before slowly releasing her. Something told him it would be a long time before he had contact with another human again and part of him wanted to maintain the contact for a long as he could. But he knew he couldn't do that all the same. He'd been helpless to help his brother or his sister; he couldn't protect them from Maynard or their parents. But he could protect this little girl and make sure she didn't do something she'd regret. He could be responsible and make sure she was safe, even if it meant going back to the orphanage she'd been in. At least she'd have shelter and be surrounded by people who were looking out for her.

Standing up once he'd released Mary, Grant offered her his hand. His hands were so big when he saw them in comparison to hers, it was frightening. He could use those hands to cause pain; the thought of it made him want to heave. "Come on, I'm walking you back home."

The sad look she gave him almost made him give in and let her stay. But he knew he couldn't let someone like Garrett within five feet of her. She was something good, pure, innocent. Garrett was the opposite; he carried a darkness around with him that made Grant shiver. But so far Garrett had kept his word, and Grant was willing to take that for what it was worth.

Sighing a moment later, Mary took his hand with a sad nod. "Alright, but I'm doing this under protest." Grant smiled a bit as she hopped off the chair again, her head barely reaching his chest as she looked up at him with wide, doe-like eyes. "Hey Grant? Promise me something."

"What?" asked Grant curiously, even as he started to lead her back towards the path she'd came down from. Buddy whimpered a little when she paused to grab her backpack, making it clear they were leaving, and Grant paused long enough to order him to stay. The last thing he wanted was to put Buddy as risk if someone spotted him.

"Promise me that you'll keep fighting to be the man you want to be, no matter what," requested Mary firmly, even as she let Grant support her as they started back up the hill. Moving away from the camp fire made it harder to see, but Grant's eyes were used to the adjustment. He knew his sight would kick in within seconds. "The world needs more good men like you."

A bit of a smile tugged at the corner of Grant's mouth, his eyes softening in the darkness where he knew he couldn't be seen. He wasn't a good man now, but he would be one when this was all said and done. "I promise, I'll keep fighting for as long as it takes to become a good man."

"Good," insisted Mary, her grip on his hand tightening a little. "We normal people need you, even when we pretend like we don't."

It was the last thing that was said for a long while besides the occasional 'ouch' or 'eep' that escaped Mary every time she misstepped and nearly fell into a hole or slipped on a hill. Grant kept her steady though, carefully helping her pick her way through the vegetation towards where the inhabited houses were. He'd scouted out this entire area in the first month he'd been there, so he knew exactly where she had to be coming from. It was a neighborhood several miles from his camp site composed almost entirely of rental and summer homes. It was far enough away that he didn't worry about anyone stumbling on his camp, especially because, as he'd discovered, to reach his camp site you had to cross a fence with some pretty scary warning signs. Apparently, the land was actually owned by Garrett and there was a lot of it there. How Mary had missed the signs in the dark, he wasn't sure. But as they reached the fence line now, he was careful to help her over the wooden posts and onto the other side.

He glanced deeper into the woods then, knowing her home was somewhere beyond the trees. Which house it was, he couldn't begin to guess, but there were several homes over the hill that were clustered into a popular holiday spot. The fact that she'd made it this far was actually pretty impressive.

"Do you know which house is yours?" asked Grant as he climbed through the fence after her and began walking downhill towards a path he knew that brushed right up against the line of houses.

"Yeah," stated Mary quietly. "It's the one with the heart-cut outs in the window cover things. The wooden ones on the outside."

"Alright," affirmed Grant as he took her hand again and started back into the woods. "Mary, I need you to promise me something, too."

"Anything Grant," assured Mary immediately. How she could be so immediate in her trust, Grant wasn't sure. What he was about to ask her to do was something he'd debated long and hard, but if anyone found in then he'd be shipped right back to juvie and his head would be back on his brother's chopping block.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled Mary to a gentle stop and knelt so he was closer to eye level with her. It didn't mean much since he couldn't really see her eyes in the dark, but it was the impact of the motion that counted. "I need you to not tell anyone about me, ever. I know that's a lot to ask, but if people find out where I am, they might come get me and then I can't finish my training."

Immediately, her brow furrowed in concern, heavy enough that he could see it even in the near pitch-black darkness of the night. The moon wasn't exactly out tonight, hovering overhead as little more than a sliver. It didn't offer them any light and left Grant wondering what Mary was thinking. He couldn't see her face, so he had no clue what might be going through her mind.

Finally, a moment later, she nodded her head, squeezing his hand gently. "I promise I'll never tell anyone I saw you. You need to become the good man you want to be, and I won't be the person who stops you from doing what you want."

"Thank you Mary," thanked Grant, tugging her into one last quick hug before he stood and began heading towards the houses again.

Beside him, he felt Mary's hand tighten on his, though he couldn't guess why. Fear of the dark maybe? It was impossible to say, but the whole rest of the way until they reached what was her foster family's house, she gripped his hand tightly. She only released him when they hit the edge of the property.

Turning to him one last time, she threw her arms around his torso and squeezed. Grant squeezed her gently back, a silent goodbye to the last person he'd probably see for a long time. He was surprised, however, when she leaned back to pull his head down towards hers.

Leaning up the rest of the way, she carefully dropped her voice so no one else would hear them. "Stay strong, Grant. I believe in you and I refuse to say goodbye because I will see you again."

With that, Mary released him and turned back to the house, darting towards the back door like a shadow across the night. Grant just watched in silent awe as she reached the back door, then scaled a tree beside said door to reach the window of one of the bedrooms. It wasn't until she'd slipped inside and shut the window that Grant turned away and headed into the woods. His heart felt lighter than it ever had in his life as her final words echoed around in his mind. I believe in you. No one had ever believed in him before. Ever.

As he made his way back through the dark woods, Grant silently rebuilt his resolve to stay and wait for Garrett. The man had said he would return to teach Grant to be a man, and he wasn't going to give up that chance. After all, someone believed in him now and he wanted to be able to keep his own promise to her someday. Someday, he would protect people like he swore he would. He wouldn't let Mary down.

"Hey traitor, you've got a visitor."

Grant looked up as the prison guard growled the name he'd been given upon entering the federal prison: traitor. They never used his first name or his last name for that matter. It didn't matter anyway, he responded to traitor like it was the name he'd had his whole life. Hell, in some ways it was. After all, who had he ever been truly loyal to? Maybe Garrett, and even then he'd started to question the man at the end (with good reason, but still...).

Frowning a little, Grant stood as he tried to determine who the hell could be visiting him. There was no one who knew where he was that would want to visit. "Who is it?"

He half expected the guards not to answer; most of them were jackasses that would rather beat him into silence than answer a question from him. Not that he spoke much; it wasn't something he'd ever been drawn towards when he was in juvie before and it wasn't something he felt the need to do now. The guards were more than happy if he just remained silent. The psychologist they were forcing him to see was less accommodating to his silence. Why they were making him see the man, he didn't know, but Dr. Caldbrock certainly didn't make Grant want to talk.

The voice of one of the guard's broke Grant's thoughts about the shrink who wore too much cologne and had a bad hair piece. "Some hot chick. Said her name was Mary-Sue Poots. Ugly name for such a beauty, but the name doesn't really matter, does it."

The second guard laughed as he pulled open the door to Grant's cell, but Grant hardly noticed as shock settled in his gut. Mary? How had she found him? It wasn't possible this was the same Mary-Sue Poots from sixteen years ago, was it?

"Ooh, looks like the traitor has a girlfriend," mocked the second guard as he slapped the cuffs on Grant's wrists and proceeded to pull him from the cell. "What's the matter, afraid to face her after what you've done?"

The guard's tone was mocking, but Grant didn't flinch. He was used to this bating, their attempts to make him react. If he did, they crowed in amusement. If he tried to stop them, he wound up in solitary. It wasn't a bad place to be, except the guards would 'accidentally' forget to bring him food more often than not. And water. The last time he went into solitary, he came out half starved and half dead. So he kept his mouth shut as the guards mocked him, digging his nails into his hands to keep himself from reacting to their words.

"Hey, maybe after she's done giving it to you in the ass like you deserve, I'll offer to show her how a real man does it," laughed the first guard, a leer painted firmly on his face. It took every ounce of Grant's strength not to twitch in response or lash out with a well placed strike to the man's gut. If Mary had found him, he owed her an explanation before he got thrown into solitary and probably left to die. No one would care if a traitor to the nation disappeared, after all.

So he half listened to their graphic attempts to verbally bait him, keeping his face carefully poised in a neutral mask. Careful to keep his hands in front of him and his feet moving forward. Careful not to give them any reason to deny him this visit. How had she even gotten in to see him? Was she someone with that kind of power now? What had become of her after he'd taken her home that night?

The guards threw open the door to the isolated portion of the visitors area, pushing Grant a little as he entered. Without missing a beat he caught his balance. It was harder with the cuffs on, but he'd been well trained before. Out of everything in his clusterfuck of a life, at least he could say that.

A light above one of the isolation rooms near the end of the hall was on and Grant realized that was probably the room he was being taken to. As they moved closer and closer towards that light, Grant felt his heart begin to speed up as panic set in. Mary shouldn't see him like this; she deserved so much better. What had even brought her here?

The panic only got worse the closer he got to the door, to the point the guards must have sensed it. They started to laugh and mock him as his anxiety rose. And when they finally stopped in front of the door, the first guard threw the door open while the second shoved him inside. He barely caught himself on the table as the guards laughter chased him into the room.

"Here he is, sweetheart: Grant Ward, the traitor," informed guard one. "Shout if you need help. We'll be happy to take him back to his cell when you're done with him."

Closing his eyes, Grant tried to force himself to calm down as the cell door slammed behind him. For a moment, no other sounds echoed through the room as he just tried to breathe. He was beginning to believe he was alone and this whole thing was some twisted hoax when the sound of light footsteps on the cement floor told him otherwise. Then, soft hands were on his shoulders and he was being pushed back into a chair. Hard. Well, she definitely knew what he did if she was treating him like this.

He kept his eyes closed as he heard her move around the room, finally hopping up on the table in front of him. The feel of her leg as she brushed his own and the sound of her body landing on the table became points of focus for him. Anything to delay this conversation.

"You know, I don't get it." Skye's voice filled the room, sending Grant's head shooting up like a rocket, eyes flying open in shock. Sure enough, Skye was perched on the table in front of him, her hands braced on the tables edge and her legs dangling over the side of the metal surface. "Why did you do it, Ward? Why betray us all?"

He wanted to answer, he really did, but the words wouldn't come. Shock, horror, and revulsion rose in Grant's chest like a miasma of destruction and self-loathing. No. No, this had to be some coincidence. It had to be a twisted and sick joke. Where had she even heard that name? He'd never mentioned Mary to anyone, too afraid word of her would get back to Garrett. "Skye?"

"Who were you expecting, Santa?" asked Skye, the sarcasm dripping from her tone as she rolled her eyes.

Grant just stared at her with helplessly wide eyes and fear in his throat. "The guards said my visitor was Mary-Sue Poots."

"Yeah," huffed Skye, clearly annoyed. "Me. That was my name before I erased my existence. Keep up, W-"

She never finished her sentence or Grant never heard it. That miasma that had before been resting in his chest turned almost instantly into physical sickness as he realized he'd betrayed someone he'd sworn to protect. He'd put Skye- Mary- through some of the same hell he'd gone through. Sure, he hadn't dropped her into the middle of the woods, but just the thought of everything he'd done to her made his stomach want to heave. The memory of the little girl from the woods trickled, unbidden, into his mind and his stomach really did heave. Nothing came up, thankfully, but he felt the dry, wracking motion echo through his chest like a earthquake. Momentarily, he wondered if this was how he was going to die: facing the one person he'd sworn to protect and then completely betrayed.

"Ward, Ward!" The sound of Skye's voice calling his name broke through his panic as her hands gripped his face and lifted it so she could meet his eyes. "Ward, what's wrong? What is it?" Her own fear was echoed in her features and it was enough for Grant to snap himself together. He was stronger than this and he needed to be strong for her. Needed to not give her any reason to worry about him; he'd already put her through enough hell.

It took effort, but he managed to calm himself down enough that he could breathe normally again. His head flopped forward as Skye released him a moment later, satisfied apparently that he wasn't going to die on her. Worry was still painted across her face though as she tried to put together what was going on. "What the hell was that about?"

"Sorry," whispered Grant, his voice cracking as he spoke. He didn't raise his head when Skye returned to sitting on the table; he didn't deserve to look at her.

"Don't apologize, just explain," snapped Skye, fear turning to familiar exasperation. He knew her lips would be set in a firm line, eyes narrowed in suspicion over whatever was happening. Without even looking up, he knew where every line of her face would be. It was a face he'd memorized, a face he knew so well. The face of someone he'd betrayed so completely it made him sick.

"I'm so sorry, Mary." She'd asked for an explanation, demanded it even, but he couldn't force any other words out of his mouth except the apology. It was the only thing he felt he deserved to say to her and he'd apologize until his tongue fell off. She'd believed he could become a good man, but all he'd become was a monster.

"Don't call me that," insisted Skye, shaking her head. He watched as she hopped down from the table again, her feet touching the floor inches from the chair where he was sitting. Then her hand was lifting his face so she could look him in the eyes and he felt so huge compared to her like he had before. She was small; someone should be taking care of her. She shouldn't be in a prison like this; how could Coulson ever let her come here.

"Why did Coulson let you come here?" whispered Grant, the words leaving his mouth before he could think about them. Without Garrett's orders echoing around in his head, telling him what to do, Grant found it hard not to speak freely to Skye. Found it hard to keep the words from just tumbling from his lips as his mind tried to actually process the fact that his rookie was the same little girl who'd pushed him to become a good man so long ago.

"AC doesn't know I'm here," stated Skye simply, her hand remain on his cheek as she leaned back against the table. "I came here to ask why you did all of this. Why you betrayed us."

"I never meant to betray you," insisted Grant. It wasn't a lie; he'd never meant to betray Mary in any way. If he'd know...if he'd know, things would have been very different. "I'm sorry Mary. I'm so sorry. I'm not the man I promised I'd become."

Skye looked like she wanted to rebuke him again, but something froze the words in her throat. Wide, startled eyes stared down at him as realization, denial, and shock settled onto her face. The hand that had been holding his face up slackened momentarily, then shifted so she was cupping his cheek instead. Her thumb brushed over the scar resting on his right cheek, a dark reminder of the damage he'd caused.

Finally, she knelt before him, one of her hands falling to land in his own. Her fingers brushed his rough palms, sliding up and over his own digits before she finally slid her entire hand into his. The press of her fingers against his skin brought memories of the night he lead her through the woods racing back, the way her tiny hand had felt so small in his own, the way she'd been so light he could pick her up with one arm if he needed to. She wasn't that small little girl anymore though; she was strong on her own now, probably able to take most men out without them realizing it. She'd become the person he'd been trying to be. Her own strong protector.

"Grant." His name was a whisper as she finally lifted her eyes back to his. The shock from before had faded a bit, settling into horror as she squeezed his hand tightly the same way she had that night in the woods. Bile churned in his stomach as he realized she must be afraid of him. That was why she'd gripped his hand so tightly in the woods, after all. "Oh god, Grant."

Then she nearly threw herself into his body, her arms coming around his shoulders as her hand released his to cling to him like she had all those years ago. He felt tears dampening the fabric of his prison uniform, but he couldn't care less. The only thing he wished was that he could wrap his arms around her again like he had before and protect her while she cried. Try to comfort her like he had so long ago. Except this time, he had no clue why she was crying. She should be angry, should slap him and call him names. Hit him. Something, anything to let her disappointment and anger in him free.

But all she did was cling to him like he was something precious and cry.

Slowly, he tried uttering the reassurances from before. Whispers of 'I'm here' and 'It'll be okay'. He couldn't remember all of them; he could barely remember how to comfort his own sister, much less someone else. The utterances seemed to help some and gradually her tears stopped until the only signs she'd been crying were the tiny hiccups that escaped her throat. Oh what he wouldn't do to wrap her up in his arms and protect her just once like he should have been for this past year.

"I'm sorry, Grant," whispered Skye, her arms tightening around his shoulders. "I'm so sorry. I should have told someone you were up there by yourself. Then maybe SHIELD could have taken you in for real and Garrett never would have corrupted you like he did."

"Skye?" asked Grant gently, his brow furrowing in confusion. What was she talking about? "Skye, no, none of this is your fault. I'm the one who betrayed you. I promised I'd protect you back in those woods and I broke that promise like every promise I've ever made. I'm the one who should be apologizing."

"No Grant," murmured Skye, shaking her head as she finally leaned back and moved so she was standing against the table again. "I should have told someone. Something about someone your age being abandoned in the woods didn't sit right with me, but I ignored that fact when I should have followed my instincts and said something. Then maybe, maybe we wouldn't be here."

"Skye..." started Grant, but she cut him off with a wave of her hand.

Without asking, she reached down and lifted his hands as high as she could, gripping his hand in that same, firm grip again. "I wanted to support you, Grant, but I was too young to realize someone was hurting you. We were both too young to realize what was happening. But I thought something was wrong and I should have said something. The fact that I didn't makes me compliant, and I'm sorry for not being smart enough to have known something was wrong. I'm sorry for not helping you back then."

"There isn't anything you could have done, Skye," whispered Grant, shaking his head as his eyes fell to their hands. "And I'm sorry for scaring you."

"Scaring me?" asked Skye, brow furrowing as she shifted her fingers to wrap around his. "What are you talking about?"

"You keep gripping my hand like you did in the woods," explained Grant, nodding at their joined hands. "I thought I scared you."

"Grant," sighed Skye, her fingers tightening momentarily around his own, "I'm not scared. This is just...I do it when I want to show someone support. It's like...a way to tell someone you're there for them without saying it."

For a moment, Grant blinked up at her in confusion. Then his eyes fell to their hands as her words sank in. She wasn't afraid then, it was a sign of support. A way for her to tell him that she was there. The memory from the woods flashed through his mind, her explanation changing the entire meaning of her gesture. Tears sprang to his eyes as realization set in and the bile from earlier swung back with a vengeance. "Skye, I'm so sorry."

"Stop," ordered Skye firmly, her fingers tightening further around his own. "Just- no more apologizes. Not to me. Not now, at least." Sighing, she moved to sit fully on the table and coaxed him a little closer so she could rest his hands in her lap. "Just," her fingers again tightened against his, "tell me how long. Tell me everything you're willing to. I want- I want to hear your story now, Grant. All of it."

Slowly, Grant nodded and tried to settle himself in. Everything would take a long time to tell, but maybe when he'd finally told someone, maybe when he'd finally done what he should have probably done so long ago and admitted what happened, then maybe he could start to become the person he'd set out to be. It was worth a shot and at this point, he had nothing to loose. "It started before the woods..."