I can't sleep, all I've done for the past two hours is toss and turn. I'm exhausted but my brain won't shut off. Jemma is sleeping next door; sometimes I can hear her crying and it brings everything back. Ward, HYDRA, Fitz..
God I miss Fitz, I didn't realize how close we'd gotten, he was like a brother to me. Is like a brother. He's still alive, barely. It's been two weeks and he still hasn't woken up, there's been no change at all really.
I keep telling myself that I hate Ward, that I wish I'd never met him, that I'd never joined the team. But none of that is true, not really. I guess in some ways I do hate Ward. For lying to us, for making us care, for hurting us, for hurting Fitz in the way he has. Mostly I'm just sad. This team was the only family I've ever truly had. I was genuinely happy for the first time in my life. I finally felt like I belonged. That I was wanted and cared for. I trusted them, trusted him. And then it all got ripped out from under me. Agian.
Only this time I wasn't expecting it and it hurt worse than any other time. Don't get me wrong, we're still a family, I still care. We're just...broken..and it hurts. Some of us are more broken than others, but we all feel it. We're all aware at how different everything is. At how different we are.
Jemma barely smiles anymore. She looks tired all the time and she snaps at me a lot. I don't blame her. How can I? She almost died. Twice. Her best friend in the world is in a coma with no signs of coming out of it anytime soon. She's lost without him, they were more than friends, more than just a relationship between two people. They were joined on some other level. I've never seen anything like it before. They were meant to be in each others lives, it's like they're two sides to the same coin. One can't exist without the other. It breaks my heart to see her walking around the Playground, lost and hurt and confused. Mostly she's angry.
Sometimes May goes in to see her and she's in there for a long time. Most times it's quiet and I think they're just sitting in silence or maybe doing some of May's hate fu. A few times though, the whole place is filled with Jemma's screams and shouts. She cusses out May and yells until her voice gives out. The first time it happened, Coulson ran into the room, Trip and I behind him, and May was stood still, while Jemma yelled in her face and punched at her. Before we could do anything, May turned to look at us and just shook her head. She didn't want us to intervene. She just stood letting Jemma hit her until she collapsed in a heap and May had to hold onto her. I cried then. Thats when I realized how broken we were. How broken she was.
I kick the covers of off me and get up. Looking at the small alarm clock on my dresser I see it's 3:47am. Great. I head out of my room, and stand outside of the one next to it, listening closely. It's quiet. I don't know if that's a good thing or bad thing. I open the door quietly, peeking my head around the small gap. Jemma is lying in her bed. I can't tell if she's sleeping or not. I hope that she is. I whisper goodnight to her and head down to the living area and kitchen.
I do this almost every night. I come here, grab a snack and some water then boot up my laptop. I go through everything S.H.I.E.L.D has on Grant Ward. Everytime I read his files, I hate him a little less. The first time I read them, I was still pretty pissed and didn't care. It didn't excuse the things that he'd done. The lies he told. The third time I read them I cried. I cried for that little boy, whose family life was so bad, the only way he thought he could escape, was to burn it all down. To burn his tormentor. To make his parents see just how damaged and frightened he was because of what was done to him. To his Brother. He was alone. Unwanted, unloved, and afraid. I understood that. I knew what that felt like. Reading about his life and his accomplishments, I felt like I knew and understood him more. I still believed he was accountable for all he'd done. He needed to understand and accept that the choices he made, the things he did, were wrong. And a lot of that was because he latched onto Garrett.
Garrett molded Ward into what he had become. He manipulated and lied and abused and filled Wards head with his sick and twisted views, and Ward soaked up all of the attention. He mistook Garretts abuse for affection. For being a part of something. He thought he owed the man his life. And that was heartbreaking. Because he didn't. He was used and taught to do things a certain way or it would all be taken away from him again. He'd be alone. He'd escaped an abusive relationship, and fell right into another. Thinking the things he was doing were the right things. That he was doing it for a reason and that it wasn't bad or wrong. He was just following orders.
I slammed my laptop shut and wiped at my cheeks. I keep looking back and I keep seeing him laughing with Jemma, teasing Fitz, playing Battleships and rolling his eyes at my victory dance every time I beat him. And I wonder; how did he hide it all. How did we not see? Were we that wrapped up in ourselves? Was he that good of a liar. Did he have us all fooled? But deep down I know, I know somewhere deep inside of him, he cares. He always had. Deep inside he was still that scared little boy, and sometimes he'd peek out, trying to find a place where he could just be. But the soldier part of Ward, the man, pushed it down and smothered it. That little boy was weak. He needed to toughen up. He needed to be strong. Like the man he was now.
I look up as Coulson walks into the room. He doesn't say anything. He never does. Just sits down next to me and lets me rest my head on his shoulder. I cry. For me, for Fitz, for Jemma and May. For Coulson and Trip. And I cry for Ward. I cry until I fall asleep on the arm of the only father I've ever known. And I feel safe, knowing he's there, watching over me.
When I wake up, I have a blanket over me and Coulson is on the chair, opposite me. Looking at a datapad and drinking his coffee. Behind me I hear Trip in the kitchen, he's making breakfast for everyone while may is off to the side doing her tai chi. Jemma is huddled at the bottom of the couch, my blanket over her legs. She's gripping a cup of hot tea in her hands and taking small sips from it. She notices I'm awake and gives me a small smile. It's the first time I've seen anything close to a smile from her in over two weeks. I almost burst into tears.
I smile back and sit up, just as Trip hands me a steaming cup of coffee. I thank him and he winks, squeezing Jemma's arm as he walks passed, back towards the kitchen. As I sip from my cup, I look around me. I can't help but smile a little. We may be broken and battered. We may be angry and sad and a little lost right now. We might have lost one of us for good, while another lies alone, in some hospital room, not knowing if he'd ever wake up.
We may be broken and battered.
But we're a family. And I know eventually, we'll glue ourselves back together, there'll still be cracks and missing pieces, but we won't be broken. At least not like we are right now. We'll mend. We'll fight. We'll believe. And we'll have each other.
These people are all I have in the world. I won't give up on them. On any of us.
I will fight to save my family.
