Yes, I am a typical 20-something who is obsessed with 1989 by Taylor Swift... It has left me aflood with Skyeward feels and I needed to write some of them down before I went insane.
Unbetaed... all mistakes are my own
Her finger hovered over the play button. She didn't know why she kept doing this to herself. Nothing new would be revealed from watching Coulson interrogate Ward and reveal the details of the trade that would take place in exactly six hours time.
Her stomach churned uncomfortably. She hated Ward… hated that he had destroyed the family that she'd found for herself. The first place she'd ever felt like she fit was damaged in a way that could never be totally repaired, all because he'd been manipulated into blindly following a psychopath.
She'd refused offers of information regarding Ward's imprisonment at first. Out of sight was out of mind, she'd reasoned; and she was far too busy licking her wounds and rebuilding the walls she'd built for herself to worry about him. For a time, she'd needed to pretend that he didn't exist… and to that effect, she'd shoved the hoodie she'd swiped from him months before when they were in Eastern Europe under her bed; hidden away as if it didn't exist.
After she'd been ordered to go speak to him, a little voice had started whispering in her head. She'd seen his scars. She knew there was no routine to how they fed him, lest he find a way to predict a schedule and use that schedule to his advantage. He'd been in solitary confinement for months on end… Who knew when he'd last seen the sun?
His betrayal had cut them all deeply, Skye deeper than anybody else. When she'd laid in bed those first few nights, teeth clenched around a washcloth to muffle her sobs, she'd believed that he deserved whatever tiny black hole he'd been condemned to- now she wasn't so sure. They were SHIELD. The good guys. Surely they were better than this. Better than taking away the most basic of dignities away from their prisoners and trading them like chattel when something of more use came along.
She closed the footage of Coulson's visit to Ward's cell. There was no sense in trying to sleep. The genuine fear that crossed Ward's face when he realised that he'd be handed over to his brother- the brother whose memory had tormented him when he used the Beserker Staff… there was no way to fake that kind of terror. Skye knew that every time she closed her eyes, she'd be torn apart by that panicked voice that still managed to get under her skin, no matter how hard she wished she were immune to it.
The hack into Koenig's lanyard locating service was ridiculously simple and in a matter of moments, Skye had the Marauder's Map of The Playground in her hands. Nobody was wandering the halls- and more importantly, nobody was monitoring the cameras. Just for her own peace of mind, Skye slipped the Taser May had recently presented to her into her pocket (it had been modified in ways that couldn't possibly be legal, but apparently the prototype had taken down Thor, so Skye felt more confident with it by her side, even if it was just in case) and slipped off her sneakers so that she could pad silently down the hall towards Vault D.
Ward wasn't sleeping. Skye almost scoffed at the thought- how could somebody get a solid eight hours rest when they were about to be sold back to their childhood tormentor?
"Skye?"
There it was… that look- like she was some kind of angel. A saviour sent to him from on high. She wasn't any of those things. She'd been complicit. She hadn't thought to question how her superiors had treated a prisoner and she'd certainly never considered Ward's situation beyond him being a wealth of knowledge to be mined.
"You're going to try and escape tomorrow." It wasn't a question. "You don't need to lie. The cameras are off. Nobody's going to hear you admit it."
She observed him carefully. Watched the twitch of his jugular and the clench of his jaw as he considered her words, staring at his hands. "I swore I wouldn't lie to you."
Skye shrugged. He'd sworn that a lot. She wanted to hear him admit it.
"I won't go back there," he muttered, tearing his gaze away from his fingers to look at Skye. "I can't. Christian broke me long before anybody else had the chance to. If it hadn't been for Christian, I wouldn't have been so easily manipulated." Garrett's name remained unspoken, but Skye could almost feel his presence in the room. "I won't be in a cage again. I'll escape tomorrow or I'll die trying."
Skye had suspected as much. He may have deceived them all, but no matter his allegiances, there was one thing Grant Ward had never been able to hide; he was a survivor. No matter what road he had to take, he would survive, no matter the cost. Even if it were barely a snowball's chance in hell, he would take it to escape the brother that caused him so much torment.
"So, I guess this is the last time I'll ever see you."
"Oh, Skye," he sighed, his eyes alight with that familiar warmth… it was the way he'd looked at her when he'd arrived at Providence. Skye had once basked in that look. Now she didn't know what to make of it. "I see you every night in my dreams."
From anybody else, it would have sounded like a line. If she'd heard it in a bar, Skye would have scoffed, and possibly have thrown her drink in the face of the jackass who tried it. But when the words left Ward's lips, she didn't know what to think.
"Seeing the rookie with half her guts hanging out all over the floor must be hard to forget." Sarcasm. It was a good defence. Safe. If the barbs were sharp enough, she'd be able to drive him away and he'd forget all about her.
"It's very rarely Italy," he replied easily. As if he'd expected her answer. "Mostly, I remember Nice."
Skye remembered Nice just fine. It had been a low risk op; a way to ease her into SHIELD protocol and prove her worth in the field while gathering valuable intel for another strike team. "Nice?" she asked. It was like they were back to how things were… Straight laced SO and his slightly insubordinate rookie. The familiarity was killing her. They'd slipped back into old roles far too naturally and Skye was terrified that she was dismissing the reality of the situation to cling to what she desperately wanted to be true.
"The beach at sunset," he reminisced. "You were still wearing the dress from the yacht party. Your cheeks were flushed and you told me it was because of the thrill of the chase."
Skye remember the day too clearly. It was the first time she could recall the overwhelming urge to kiss him and had she not slicked on red lipstick as part of her cover for the op, she would have done it. "Will you think of me after you've left?"
The question shocked her. It had bubbled out before she'd realised what she was saying- before she had the opportunity to censor her thoughts and hold such a dangerous confession close to her chest.
"I'll think of you everyday," he answered. He was standing now, dangerously close to the barrier that closed off his cell. "I'll think of everything that could have been, had all of this not come between us."
Skye gave him a mournful little smile. She'd been lying if she said she hadn't lain in her bunk late at night, imagining what their lives could have been like had Hydra not been growing inside SHIELD like a cancer. Her foolish, childish self who usually stayed well hidden wanted it, wanted them; bad… to not get it was shattering in ways Skye couldn't articulate. She was exhausted with daring to hope and being broken time and time again.
The Taser was still in her pocket, ready to be used, just in case. He was so close, but just out of reach. She drank in his familiarity… the tall frame and even bearded and unkempt, he was handsome as hell.
Throwing caution into the wind, she let wild, impulsive Skye take the wheel. She hit the release button on the sensors that were keeping them apart. She was confident that his misguided protectiveness of her would outweigh his desire to hurt her so that he could escape.
She stepped forward, reaching to trace his shoulders. This was the first human contact he'd felt in months, and the thought weighed heavily on her as she watched his eyes flutter closed. She slipped her hands through his greasy hair, angling his face towards hers as she rose on her tiptoes.
Her lips brushed against his; nothing more than light caresses as she basked in his closeness and ignored the realities of the world and the circumstances in which they lived, choosing to use this brief moment to soak up Grant Ward in all his broken humanity.
She stepped back. "Remember me by that, Ward," she murmured. Certain that she wouldn't accidentally trap herself in the cell; she hit the button that would lock Ward into his solitude.
She began her slow ascent back up the stairs. Palm on the doorhandle, she turned back to face him. "Try not to get yourself killed, okay?"
He smirked. "Anything for you, Skye," he answered. "Besides, I made promises that I need to keep."
I'd love to hear your thoughts
