A/N: So I posted this to AO3 first (which I usually don't do) and then I totally forgot to cross post it, so I'm doing that now.

This is was written for the ever wonderful wardsshield, nathyfaith, wanderingrookie, and hollyedolly over on tumblr, all of whom con tributes to a truly wonderful and compelling prompt. The original post can be found here: wardsshield dot tumblr dot com /post/89450488233/but-you-know-the-scene-where-the-camera-is-on-them . Just make the necessary changes to the URL. :)

This is my first time writing an AoS character other than Ward, so my apologies if they come off a little ooc. As always, reviews are adored and gobbled up like cookies. Happy reading! :)

Protector

He doesn't have much in the way of worldly possessions. Partially because when Garrett rescued him and told him he could only pack one bag, Ward was more worried about practicality than sentiment, and partially because Ward never really had much to get attached to anyway. He never did return to his family's home (not his, never his) to pick up everything he'd left behind, and he can't honestly say he regrets it. Everything he owns, he can pack in one small backpack, and nothing is so important that he can't leave it behind.

Well. Almost nothing.

There is one reminder of his past life that he hasn't quite been able to let go of yet. He knows he needs to, knows that giving meaning to an object gives it power over him, knows he can't let anything tie him down with the kind of life he lives. But it's the only connection he has to who he used to be, and he isn't ready to complete erase that part of himself. They may have been the worst sixteen years of his life, but they were what turned him from Grant Ward, bystander, to Grant Ward, protector.

At first glance, the tiny necklace doesn't seem like much. It's just a simple bronze wing hanging from a leather cord, a cheap trinket found a dime a dozen. But the insignificant cost of the necklace simply reinforces its value to Ward. They'd never had much money growing up, and it pains Ward to think of how long his younger siblings must have saved every last penny they could scrounge up in order to buy him the pendant. And only days before he...

So he allows himself this one weakness. This one connection to his past. This one reminder of how he failed the people he once held dearest.

He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he made the same mistake again.

He never takes the necklace with him on ops. He can't risk it being used as a weapon or a tool to choke him. The small leather cord could provide opponents with an easy way to pull on him, tie him up, strangle him. Besides, there's always the chance he could lose it, and that's something he can't risk happening. He doesn't want to return to the Bus and realize he's left the necklace behind in some desert wasteland in the middle of nowhere.

He never expected to lose the necklace on the Bus itself.

"FitzSimmons," he says, staring blankly at the empty hook on the wall. His voice is oddly tight. "Where's my necklace?"

Fitz glances at him. "Thought you were wearing it?" he says before returning his gaze to Simmons, who's patching him up.

"Maybe it fell off?" Simmons offers. "We did experience some turbulence. But you can look for it later, Ward. Sit down so I can take a look at you, you look like you should be dead."

Ward shakes his head. "Just a scratch," he says absently. He begins searching the surrounding area, a controlled desperation resonating in his movements. He ignores the blood he's dripping all over the floor and the pain that shoots through his body whenever moves. "Simmons, it isn't here," he says, and did he imagine it or did his voice just crack? He drops to his knees and crawls around, peering into every nook and cranny.

"Then maybe you left it somewhere else? It's just a necklace, Ward, you can look for it later. Now sit down," Simmons says forcefully.

Ward climbs to his feet. "It's not just a necklace!" he bites out, eyes narrowed. "It's..." The anger flees his face just as quickly as it came, leaving only an expression of anguish behind. "Simmons, please," he whispers.

Fitz hops off the table he's been perched on. "Tell you what, I'll ask around, see if anyone's seen it, while you sit down and let Simmons fix you up. I recommend you agree, because Simmons looks like she's two seconds away from chaining you to the table."

Ward is silent for another moment, and then he nods once and strides towards Simmons. "Thanks, Fitz," he says quietly.

Fitz returns just as Simmons is finishing with Ward. "None of the others have any idea where it could be," he says apologetically. "Maybe you left it in your bunk? Although...I didn't see Skye, dunno where she is. Maybe she knows? Sorry, Ward." His eyes are earnest, and Ward doesn't have the heart to be angry at him. He smiles sadly.

"Yeah, I'll go see," he says, and hops off the table.

He heads to his bunk first. Maybe FitzSimmons is right, and he forgot to hang it up before he left. It's not entirely impossible. Or maybe this is a sign, he finds himself thinking. Maybe it's time he let go of the past and move on. Maybe losing the necklace is the universe's way of telling him he needs to stop being so ridiculously sentimental.

He reaches his bunk and pauses in confusion. The door is slid shut, but he's almost positive it was open when he left. He pulls out his icer and clicks off the safety. Cautiously, he levers the door open, finger tight on the trigger in case someone's waiting for him inside.

As it turns out, there is someone inside, but it isn't an enemy. "Skye?" Ward asks in surprise. She's curled into a ball on his bed, holding something tightly to her chest. She looks up at him, her eyes going wide, and then she flings herself towards him. He barely has time to raise his arms to catch her, and a stumbles back a few steps from the force. "Hey there, Rookie," he says. "What's going on?"

"Thank god, you're back," Skye says instead, her voice muffled because her mouth is currently pressed against Ward's neck.

Ward chuckles distractedly. He can't say he isn't enjoying the attention, but his gaze is already drifting over his bunk, trying to see if the necklace is out in the open anywhere. "Of course I am. Don't you have any faith in me?" he asks. He tries to pry her off gently, and luckily, she allows him to. He pushes past her and begins rooting through his drawers.

"Well, your comms went offline almost immediately, you're two days late, and you're wearing more bandages than a mummy," she lists off. "I think I have a right to be worried. What are you looking for?"

"My necklace," he says shortly without turning around. He hears Skye swear under her breath.

"You mean, like this one?" she says, her voice apologetic.

Ward freezes, blinks, and turns around slowly. She's clutching a leather cord in her hand, and Ward sees the wing pendant dangling from it. "Yeah," he says, and takes it from her.

Skye looks at him for a minute before glancing away. "I needed something of you with me," she says quietly. "I didn't want you to be completely gone if you'd been made."

Ward knows he should be angry at her for taking the necklace. He knows he should be upset that she worried him for no reason. He should feel uncomfortable that she violated his personal quarters for isentiment/i. But all he can feel is relief and overwhelming affection. There is genuine apology written in her features, and he just can't bring himself to be angry at her.

Instead, Ward gathers her in his arms and rests his head on hers. "I'll always come back," he promises, with the necklace as witness. "Always."

FIN