He asked her that night if everything just rolled off her back. He thought that because she could forgive him, that she was impervious to his hateful rant. Little did he know that more than once in the following week had she woken up to silent tears rolling down her cheeks, the sound of his voice an echo in her memory.
She tried not to let it get to her, to be what he thought she was, but every time his jaw tightened in irritation, she was reminded that he hated the sound of her voice. That all she did was talk. He couldn't know that she talked so much, because she was desperate to be heard, to be noticed, to be taken seriously. She talked because for years she had been made voiceless, forced into silence by foster families who didn't care and old god fearing nuns who thought she deserved what god had given her.
She couldn't be quiet anymore. She had to rail against something, be it the government, SHIELD, Corporate American, even May's high-handedness. She had to give a voice to those who couldn't speak for themselves.
That didn't mean that she didn't notice how he would look away when she asked a question. That didn't mean that she didn't find herself biting the insides of her cheeks to keep a smart ass comment from popping out while they were training. It didn't mean that she hadn't taken to going to Coulson office after briefings instead of discussing things with the whole team.
It just meant that sometimes she had to accept that people didn't like her. That she would have to develop some self-control, if she wanted to keep Ward from grinding his teeth to dust. And she would, she had done much harder things for people who mattered far less to her. She wouldn't change herself for him, but she could respect his desire for quiet. He deserved that much.
Ward heard familiar tinkling laughter coming from the lab. That was odd. He had just asked Skye to play dominos with him, but she had told him that she was too busy. He snuck quietly through the shadows to get a closer look. He could see Skye on a roller chair swaying back and forth head leaned back in laughter.
FitzSimmons were telling another story, if there hand gestures and twin animated expressions were any indication. Fitz was miming electrocution, while Simmons was hopping on one foot, Skye was gasp for air between fits of giggles.
"What's so funny?" Ward asked, coming into the lab. All sound stopped in an instant. Both scientist looked guilty, and made an excuse to rush back to their microscopes and holograms.
"It was nothing," Skye smiled at him, before moving to leave. Ward shook his head. This was the third time this week she had left the room the moment he entered. He shouldn't have taken it personally, but he did.
He had not anticipated becoming attached to this team. He had worked with others in the past, but he was a specialist, he mostly worked alone. When he had worked with others in the past, it had always been grating on his nerves. He hated not knowing what the other people were thinking, how they would react. With this team, he felt something he hadn't felt in years, he felt protective. Not because there was an assignment to complete, but because he begrudgingly cared about them.
He cared that Simmons mother and father would be devastated to have anything happen to their precious baby girl. He cared that Fitz had five sisters that were counting on him to carry on the family name. He cared that Coulson had already come so close to death, that he deserved to live his days out happily. He cared about May, who always tried to act tough, but was really just trying to protect everyone. But most of all he cared about Skye.
Skye with her brash actions and her loud mouth and her inability to watch anyone suffer. Skye who had literally cried herself to sleep the night after Simmons nearly died from the Chitari virus. He had heard her from the next bunk, but after all he had said to her that day, he didn't feel right about trying to comfort her. Skye who cared about everyone and anyone, but who he found had no one who really cared for her. That was, until she had been dragged onto this plane with a bag over her head.
He was a little thrown. She was usually so friendly and outgoing. He couldn't get her to shut up and leaving him alone for two minutes those first few weeks. She was always bouncing around, asking questions, making comments (mostly inappropriate), always there running her mouth. Then there was that mess with Miles, and their almost friendship, had been burned to the ground, but he thought they were moving on now.
Not one to beat around the bush, and knowing that interpersonal problems could negatively affect a mission, Ward decided that he needed to figure out what was going on with Skye. First he checked her bunk, but it was empty, as was the control room and the lounge.
He was headed down to check the cargo hold, when he heard noise coming from the SUV parked next to Lola. He pulled open the door to see Skye, ear buds in, drumming on the headrest in front of her, laptop bouncing on her lap. He stood there for a moment, before she noticed.
"Shit, oh my god Ward, don't do that you scared the hell out of me," she nearly screamed.
"We obviously need to work on your situational awareness," he replied blandly.
"Ok, add that to the list," she mumbled turning the computer in her lap, only to look up again when he continued to stare. "Can I help you?" she asked with some irritation in her voice. She was trying to relax, and he just kept turning up to remind her of something else she needed to work on.
He continued to stare, trying to decide a course of action. Finally he climbed into the SUV, knowing that this conversation needed some privacy.
"Did I do something to piss you off?" he asked.
Now it was her turn to stare, she couldn't figure out what he wanted from her.
"I'm fine," she finally answered, though there was no real answer in it. "Do you need something, Ward?"
"I need you to tell me what your damn problem is," he returned starting to feel rage bubble in his chest.
"I'm fine, Grant," she said more soothingly, her hand brushing his, while her body backed away from him.
He didn't know if it was her tone, or the touch, or the use of his given name, or the look of panic in her eyes, but he calmed down immediately.
"But you're not fine, you're holding back. I can see the wheels turning in your mind, but you won't just say whatever it is going on up there," he tried to explain.
If she had been a different person, she probably would have started crying in frustration. But she was, who she was, so she just bit her cheek and tried to figure out how to make this conversation be over. After another long pause, silence ringing in Ward's ears, proving his point, she spoke.
"I don't know what you want from me," she said, her voice sounding more than a little broken. Ward's heart clenched in his chest, but all Skye saw was the clenching in his jaw from barely contained emotion which she wrongly assumed was rage.
"I will do better," she promised, her voice now emotionless, missing the quirks that made him smile.
His first instinct was to leave. This was treacherous conversation and he could feel his control slipping, but leaving now meant that things would get worse. He knew it by the vacant look in eyes. Short of literally shaking her, he was at a loss for what to do. They both stared at each other trying to figure out where they had stumbled this time.
"I am doing my best here, Ward, but I have to have a little me time," she said trying to explain why she wasn't doing whatever he thought she should be doing.
"We can't go on a mission like this, Skye. We have to be able to talk to each other, or I won't know where you are or if you need help," he explained.
"That's stupid, Ward. You said it yourself, all I ever do is talk," she replied with some sadness.
"Not to me,"
She breathed in deeply through her nose trying to control herself, "You… you said… you said you get tired of hearing my voice. I was just trying to make things easier for you."
If it were possible to have a heart crushed with words, Ward would have needed a transplant. It took everything he had not to reach across the seat and take her in his arms, but he couldn't. He couldn't just expect her to forget what he had said in anger. The fact that it had taken him this long to see that, only proved that he couldn't care for her the way she needed to be cared for. The way she deserved.
"I was wrong, Skye. Have you ever heard a song and thought it was terrible, only to find yourself singing it the next day?"
She nodded skeptically.
"It's kind of like that, I didn't realize that I would miss you, until you shut me out. Then I found myself waiting in the halls to hear you talking to someone else. To hear you tell Simmons about the movie you watched, or Coulson some dumb joke."
"I miss you," he said simply.
"I miss you too," she replied gently.
"Where do we go from here?" he asked.
"I have no idea," she admitted.
"Will we be okay?" he wondered.
"I think so, after all you are sorta in love with me," she said with complete lack of concern.
"What?!" he blushed furiously, "that's not what I said…"
"Calm down, Robot, I'm just teasing, everyone knows that machines can't fall in love," she smiled a true smile at him, but his heart stilled ached a little at the thought that she didn't think he could love. Maybe it was just her teasing, but he felt like part of her believed it too, which was a problem, because he was pretty sure he was sorta in love with her, but that was a problem for another day. For today at least they were talking.
A/N: well it again appears to be 2 am, the perfect time for me to be typing furiously whilst my children snore, sorry i haven't updated breath or Mission: SHIELD I swear I sat down to and this came out instead, I am half way through the next chapter of breath so that will update tomorrow, anyway, this stemmed for the rage freak out, and Skye's easy forgiveness. remembering that forgiving is not forgetting. hope you liked it and PLEASE REVIEW. Thanks and happy reading!