A/N: So. Um. Ep 2x01. *collapses into a puddle of tears* I literally cannot handle a thing right now. Frick.
My Skyeward feels have been absolutely, utterly destroyed. So what do I do? Write fic, of course. This fic was def supposed to be like half this length, haha. This idea is inspired partly by Tumblr user cordeliassoliloquy's post here: cordeliassoliloquy . tumblr (. com) /post/98279506680/but-guys-what-if-ward-has-a-dark-parallel-to (just make the necessary fixes). Song title comes from "I Don't Love You" by MCR, which is what I listened to like 20 times as I wrote this.
I know Ward and Garrett are probably horribly out of character, and my writing is probably absolute crap, but meh. I had to get this out. I'd love a review or two if you can. Happy reading! :)
Like I Did Yesterday
Skye's words run through his mind without pause. After so long with nothing else to fixate on, her voice is a balm to his shattered mind. It's a good thing he likes her voice, Grant reflects, because he would have latched onto it anyway, if only because it's so different from the monotony he's been quietly enduring all this time.
"You should have run faster."
It's a temporary relief, he knows. All of them have been. There's only so long he can focus on a distraction before its potency is dulled to nonexistence. The pain was like that, slowly having less and less of an impact until he was damn near suicidal but only felt a slight tingle where blood pooled on his pale skin. It was like that with the hypnosis, and with working out, and even with the writing, all the words blurring together until the English language looked like gibberish to his tired eyes.
"You should have run faster."
The most frustrating thing is that Grant knows each of these distractions would have tided him over until the end of time in normal circumstances. He's used plenty of dissociation techniques to keep from keeling over with exhaustion on ops, to stay alert during stakeouts, even to remain tight-lipped in interrogations. It's both part of his training as a specialist and part of the coping methods he developed in response to his upbringing.
But then, these aren't normal circumstances, are they? Normally, Grant would be alone. Normally, he wouldn't have…
"You should have run faster."
Grant doesn't let himself think of that. He stares resolutely at the ceiling, ignoring the one corner that always seems a shade darker than the rest of the cell, despite knowing that all inches of the room are equally bright in order to keep a careful eye on him at all times. Ignoring the smirk he knows is waiting for him with an accompanying "I told you so." Ignoring the craggy face he knows almost as well as his own.
Grant doesn't think about that, about any of that, and just lets Skye's voice lull him into a haze. He's always been a bit of an opportunist, even more so now that he has nothing left; he'll take what he can get.
"You should have run faster."
As always, he's only just sunk into a halfway state between consciousness and peace before a rough voice breaks in and tears the silence to shreds.
"I always knew your weakness would come back to bite you," John says, his tone colored with mocking mirth. It's not quite "I told you so" but it's a near thing. Grant sighs, closes his eyes briefly, and pulls himself into a sitting position.
"She just doesn't understand," Grant murmurs wearily, directing his comment toward John but not turning to look at him. He ignores John's barb about his "weakness." It's an argument they've had plenty of times, one that he has yet to win. "I can't exactly blame her. I did some terrible things, John. And for what, in the end?" Despite his best efforts, a small portion of the bitterness he has suppressed leaks into his voice.
"You should have run faster."
"What, indeed," John muses. "You always were useless," he continues casually, and Grant forgets how to breathe for a moment, the betrayal ringing cold and tight in his chest. "Never succeeded at anything. You know why, Ward? Because you care so damn much. Maybe if you'd succeeded in crossing off those two science geeks. Maybe if you'd realized earlier you were more invested in Skye than she could ever be in you. Maybe then, you wouldn't be stuck here, in this prison, at the mercy of SHIELD panderers and their worthless director. But hell, you couldn't even kill a damn dog," John spits out in disgust.
"You should have run faster."
"You know, maybe she's right," John says coldly after a moment, while Grant is still trying to process what's just come out of his mentor's mouth. "Maybe you should have run faster. Lord knows I tried my best to get you to."
Grant turns sharply to look at John, his eyes wide and wounded, but he already knows what he'll find. Sure enough, the corner is empty as always. All that's left is John's harsh laughter hanging heavily in the silence.
FIN