Betrayal.
The pain Ward felt was nothing compared to the pain Fitz felt.
Realisation slowly dawning on him, as he watched his former friend press the buttons that would eject him and Simmons, throwing them wherever it was they were flying over (probably the ocean, if he were honest with himself), hope slowly being crushed into a tiny million pieces. And then betrayal, like a knife, stinging at first, but then painful, incredibly painful. Sharp, slow, damaging.
And he pleaded. Pleaded for him to come back, for his friend to come back. Because this? This wasn't Ward. He didn't care which was the true Ward, he wanted his friend back. The one that saved Simmons for him when he couldn't, not the one that was ready to kill both of them, because he was "following orders". This Ward wasn't his friend. It was a cold soldier following orders, not caring about the damage he caused.
Actually, that wasn't true. He cared. He cared, and that was probably worse. Because he did it knowing it was wrong, and he did it anyway. He remembered himself yelling, "I know you care about us, Ward!" He was trying to save Simmons and himself. He was trying to bring Ward back. He knew if Ward saved them instead of killing them, they might have a chance to go back to the team they used to be, before this whole HYDRA thing came up.
But Ward's answer was the most painful thing he could've said or done. "You're right. I do. It's a weakness."
He barely heard it, but he did. And then he'd thrown them out. The fall felt impossibly slow, it was eating him on the inside, he didn't know what was coming, and he wished he did, wished he could see what was outside, what was coming. And while it felt slow, Fitz knew it wasn't, that they were falling fast, because he wasn't stupid, he knew how gravity worked.
But the scene replayed in front of his eyes, over and over, and the pain was always the same. Supposedly, when you repeated a word long enough, it starts losing its meaning, and it just feels strange to use it, you stop feeling the same, and you end up feeling nothing. But it wasn't like that for Fitz. Those words were much more than just a betrayal. Did Ward seriously think of them as "weaknesses"? No, he didn't. He didn't say they were weaknesses, he said caring was a weakness.
The words kept replaying in his mind.
In Ward's mind, caring and weakness were the same thing. Garrett must've taught him that, he must've. And it hurt to know, that while Garrett was the reason Ward was here, killing FitzSimmons off, it wasn't just that. Ward was choosing Garrett over his friends. Ward was... He was simply not the person they'd come to know, the person they'd befriended.
That Ward was gone.
And so was Fitz's hope to go back to the way they were before.
Even if FitzSimmons weren't falling to their deaths, Ward would never be part of the team.
Fitz wasn't sure he'd ever be able to forgive him for this.
He tried to tune the words out, but he couldn't. And it was either that, or feeling a strange mix of fear and acceptance towards their deaths.
You're right. I do. It's a weakness.
I do. It's a weakness.
It's a weakness.
Weakness.