Title: You Have to Feel the Pain (When You Lose the Love You Gave Someone)
Chapter 01: I Never Thought I'd Be (Lying Here Without You By My Side)
Author: snarkysweetness
Rating: R
Pairings: Skyeward, Philinda, Fitzsimmons, & Huntingbird with Trip, Mack, Grandma May, Doctor Sparky, & the babies
Summary: Skye learns the hard way that love isn't always enough. Grant realizes too late that the one thing he can't live without is the thing he's already lost. After their marriage falls apart Skye finally walks out, leaving him and S.H.I.E.L.D. behind, while Grant tries desperately to piece things back together.
Warnings: Angst, smut, death, alcohol abuse, otp pain, & angst.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Notes: [evil smirk] I am finally ready to unleash the fic of doom upon you all…and yes…I've been sitting on this for five months because I thought it was too evil. Enjoy.

"This is so fucking stupid," Grant growled in frustration, struggling with his tie. Skye sat silently, on what used to be their bed, toying with her wedding ring. He caught a flash of sadness in her eyes through the mirror before she looked away and he ignored the way it made his chest ache. Instead he pulled his tie off angrily and threw it to the floor, wishing he could hit something.

He had so much pent up anger and frustration that he couldn't even tie a fucking tie. And God-forbid he let any of it seep through, because if he did she'd get mad and then they'd start fighting and then the screaming would start and he was not in the fucking mood to engage in a war tonight.

He'd give anything to go back to the days when he wasn't constantly walking on eggshells and their home was peaceful and his wife still loved him and was willing to touch him. Maybe if she did he wouldn't be so fucking on edge. And at the very least she'd be able to help him with his fucking tie!

Grant ran his hands over his face and growled to himself before angrily reaching down to retrieve his tie. Before he could get to the stupid piece of fabric his tiny wife appeared, still unable to meet his eyes, tie in hand. She reached up and wrapped it around his collar and he held his breath, trying not to get his hopes up; he knew better than to hope at this point.

He watched her deft fingers tie the knot and once he was sure she wasn't going to use it to strangle him he relaxed, watching in trepidation as she did her best not to touch him. He bit back a mean comment, knowing it would do more harm, and that was the last thing they needed, but he couldn't help the sick feeling in his stomach. How had they come to this? They'd been so in love once, so unable to keep their hands off of one another they would have sex anywhere, even her father's office, and the definition of having hearts in their eyes. Now they couldn't even stand the sight of each other.

Grant desperately wanted to reach out and touch her cheek, to tell her he was sorry and that he still loved her, but he was a coward with too much pride and too much fear. And if he was being honest, he knew this was what he deserved. He'd been foolish to think they could ever be happy, not when he didn't deserve her or this life. He was a bad man and no amount of atoning for his sins was enough; this was karma coming back to collect for the blood on his ledger.

Skye's fingers brushed across his neck, sending a calm through his body. He knew it had to be an accident, she hadn't let him touch her in well over a year, but it didn't stop the fantasy that played through his head next. Him shoving her against the mirror and kissing her, her moaning his name, and him fucking her the way they both needed to be fucked.

After a moment of hesitation he almost followed through with it.

Almost.

Because no matter how much he missed her, he knew better than to try. Their marriage had been over for a long time and he knew hate fucking would only make things worse. It would destroy her; and Grant still loved her too much to do that to her.

Grant stepped away, needing to break whatever it was that was going on between them. Being close to her left him breathless, even now, and he didn't trust himself not to cross a line they could never come back from.

Skye met his eyes for the first time that evening and she looked so small and helpless as she stared up at him. The desire to kiss her and pull her into his arms filled him again and he had to look away.

"Grant?" She pleaded, pulling his attention back to her. "Just do this, for…" she stared back down at the floor, fighting tears. After a moment she met his eyes again. "It's just one dinner and when it's over you can go back to hating me," she said quietly.

He wasn't sure what did it; knowing he couldn't comfort his wife or the reminder of how little she thought of him but he snapped. "It's not just dinner! Putting on a show for your fucking parents means sleeping on the floor because you don't want them to know we sleep in separate bedrooms. Unless you want to share the bed, sweetheart," he spat, knowing she'd rather light herself on fire than risk winding up in his arms.

Skye channeled her mother, giving him a look that could kill a lesser man, and stood her ground. "Don't worry, sweetheart, behave and you can have your precious bed all to yourself." She shoved past him angrily and he sighed, realizing how stupid this was.

"Skye, wait," he reached for her but she pushed him away violently.

"Don't," she warned.

He put both hands up in defeat. "What is the point in all of this?" He asked honestly. "No one is expecting us to be fine after…" he couldn't even bring himself to say it. "If you want to keep pretending our marriage is still real, fine, but we're not fooling anyone with this act that we're happy. We should just…"

"What? Tell everyone the truth? Get a divorce?"

Bile rose to his throat and he felt panic course through him. In all of their fights, no matter how ugly they got, neither had ever uttered the 'D' word. And to hear her say it now, in one of their tamer fights, so calmly…he knew they weren't happy but he couldn't bear the thought of actually ending things.

"Of course not," he whispered, fighting the urge to reach for her again.

He didn't know how to fix this but he was suddenly desperate to try.

"Then just do this, if not for me then for them. They're worried, not just for me. They love you too. And ever since…" Skye looked away, not bothering to hide the tears anymore. He knew they needed to talk about it, but he wasn't sure he could do this now, not like this, not when they were both angry. Skye wiped at her nose and glanced back at him, eyes red, face stoic. "I need them to think we're okay so they can move on. They gave up so much to take care of me and I just want them to be happy again. I know your parents are horrible and maybe you can't understand why this is important to me, but they're everything to me. They're all I have left. I love them and if us pretending to be happy eases their minds, then it's worth us putting up with each other for a day. I know you hate me but it's one dinner and one night sharing a room." She sighed and hugged herself, averting her eyes again. "You can go back to hating me openly tomorrow," she whispered, defeated.

He stared at her, dumbstruck. Where had she gotten this idea that he hated her? Yes, maybe he was crueler than he needed to be, but only because she'd pushed him away. And yes, he'd made a mistake, a terrible mistake, one he wished he could take back but he didn't blame her for that. He hated himself for failing her, couldn't she see that?

"Skye-"

"Please," she pleaded, slowly meeting his eyes again. "I don't want to fight anymore. We don't even have to share the room, I'll…" She went pale and hugged herself tighter. "I'll sleep in the baby's room if you want; just be nice during dinner. I promise, the next time I'll make up an excuse for them not to stay so I don't have to put you through pretending to love me."

Her voice broke but this time it didn't affect him. He couldn't believe she'd gone there. To stoop so low as to bring their daughter into this…

Grant went for the door, knowing if he didn't get out of this room…

He pulled the door open so hard it hit the wall, causing her to jump in fear.

"Do whatever the hell you want, Skye," he said evenly, hands shaking. "But this is it; after tonight I'm not fucking faking it anymore," he warned, sparing her a glance before he stormed off, because he hated himself. For a small moment, he regretted his outburst, because when he looked back he found Skye on the edge of their bed, clutching Ellie's stuffed rabbit, sobbing into its neck.

A better man would have gone back and apologized. A better man would hold her and tell her he hadn't meant it when he said he was done. A better man would tell her he still loved her more than anything and that they could find a way to make this work.

But the truth was he wasn't a good man. He was petty and mean and stubborn. And the truth was, he'd meant it a little.

And he was also a coward. Admitting his faults, taking responsibility for his role in destroying their marriage, and confessing he still loved her was a risk he wasn't willing to take. Because there was always the possibility that he would bare his soul to her and she would crush what was left of his heart by rejecting him. And after the past year, Grant knew he couldn't survive her finally admitting she no longer loved him. It would kill him.

So instead, Grant took one final look at his crying wife, and not for the first time, he chose his own needs over doing the right thing and finally admitted to himself that maybe this was all his fault.

Clutching the rabbit to her chest, Skye cursed herself for breaking down in front of him. She was better than this. She'd gotten so good at pretending it was almost an art form. Good at pretending she was fine. Pretending he still loved her. Pretending she didn't spend every waking moment wishing she too had died that day.

Where she goes, death follows.

Skye wiped her eyes angrily, hating herself.

She'd always been the strong one in their relationship but even the strongest dams eventually broke. And the truth was, she'd come into this already shattered. The glue keeping her together wasn't strong enough for this. She wasn't strong enough for this.

Skye hated showing weakness in front of him. Hated that she still loved him so much. Hated that she loved a man who had stopped loving her a long time ago.

Because the truth was, it was her fault. She was a danger to the people who loved her. She was a dark cloud that brought death and destruction. She'd hated him so much once for the things he had done but she was the true monster.

Skye wiped at her eyes angrily, tossing the rabbit aside. She would not sit here feeling sorry for herself. She would not let her guard down like this again. She would not let him see her cry again. She couldn't. She needed to suck it up. Her parents would be here soon and she desperately needed them to think they were fine. That she was fine.

Skye didn't want them to worry. They…they were the only reason she'd survived such a devastating loss. She didn't want to be a burden on them anymore, especially not when it should have been Grant at her side. Grant taking care of her. Grant wiping away her tears. Grant holding her when the nightmares struck. Grant loving her enough to be her rock.

She'd needed him to be the strong one for once but the truth was, he was weak. She'd fallen in love with a man who desperately wanted to play hero but couldn't handle the role when the time came.

And that sad part was she was the idiot girl who was still in love with him.

She wanted the man she'd married back. The one who had clawed his way back to her. The one who had always stood by her side. The one who loved her enough to burn the world to be with her.

But that wasn't going to happen.

It was time to let go of her childish fantasies and accept that their love wasn't strong enough to get them through this. His love for her hadn't been strong enough for him to forgive her for the role she played in their family's loss. And while she couldn't blame him for hating her, she couldn't forgive him for not loving her as much as she still loved him.

The doorbell rang and Skye quickly composed herself, putting on her best fake smile.

It was show time.

Skye spent the majority of their dinner poking at her pasta while politely nodding along to the conversation. To his credit, Grant played his role beautifully. To avoid any small talk, he kept the old man engaged by asking to hear all about the mission he'd embarked on with THE Captain America. She felt herself zoning out, not because she hated this farce, but because she'd heard this story so many times already. Her dad could go on for days about his man crush on Steve Rogers.

Just before Skye began to tune them out completely she felt her mother take her hand. She glanced up to find her giving Skye a sad smile and Skye had the overwhelming urge to burst into tears. Skye knew she was doing the right thing but it didn't stop the yearning to just go home and let her mother take care of her. Skye missed being a little girl, when she was able to climb into her mother's lap anytime something hurt and her mother would stroke her hair and make it all better. And since it seemed all she was able to do these days was hurt, she'd give anything to have someone fix it.

Skye gave her mother's hand a squeeze and returned the smile, knowing this would have to be enough.

"What do you say, angel? Want to humor your old man and come home for a few days?"

Skye turned to her father and blinked in confusion. "What?"

"Why don't you come and stay with your mother and I while Ward's in Russia. Your grandmother will be visiting soon and you can see all of the renovations to the house. We even painted your old room." Right, the house being painted was why they were staying here for the night.

Phil reached out and brushed a loose curl out of her eyes. "We rarely see you outside of work and I feel better knowing you're close by when Ward's on a mission."

She gave him a smile, knowing he meant well. And honestly, going home was all she wanted. And if she had a timeline, she'd feel less guilty taking him up on it. Not to mention, it was better than being stuck in this house alone again because Grant had once again taken off on her.

"Why not? With Grant gone, I don't see why-" Skye slowly turned to stare down her husband, her nostrils flaring. "I'm sorry, where are you going, exactly?"

Her father looked between them guiltily and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry, I thought you knew-"

"I asked you a question," Skye snapped, ignoring her father. Grant stared at her with a shit-eating grin and she wished she had something heavy to throw at him. "Speak, Ward," Skye ordered, not in the mood for his shit right now.

He shrugged and tossed his napkin on his plate. "Russia," he answered, like it was nothing.

But oh, was it something.

"And when in the hell were you planning on telling me?"

"Just now."

So, he wanted to fucking play this game?

Skye stood abruptly, grabbed him by the tie, and pulled him into the kitchen, shoving him against the counter. "You just got back from China! You haven't even been home a week! And do I need to remind you that you almost died?" She couldn't fight the breaking in her voice. Why was he putting her through this again? Didn't he know what she went through every time he took a mission overseas? How much she worried? How much she missed him?

"I'm sure you were extremely disappointed when I didn't," he replied coldly, sliding past her to grab a beer from the fridge.

The entire kitchen shook as she used her powers to slam the door closed before he could reach in. "Don't you dare speak to me like that, Grant Douglas. I am still your wife. This is still your home. You still have responsibilities. You don't get to check out of this marriage whenever it's convenient for you."

He was always waiting and willing to take any mission they threw his way, as long as it involved being as far away from her as possible, of course, and she was fucking sick of it.

Grant approached her, backing her up against the wall while glowering down at her. "Don't you dare pull that marriage crap on me, Skye. You're the one who kicked me out of our bedroom, remember? Because you can't stand to be in the same room with me, let alone touch me. What the fuck else am I supposed to do? Sit around here like a dog so you can kick me whenever you feel like it? I'd much rather die in a desert somewhere than stay in this house any longer than I have to."

The room shook again. She didn't care if her parents were in the next room, she wanted to claw his eyes out. "Maybe I just got sick and tired of always having to deal with everything on my own because God forbid you actually man up for once and be there when I need you. I've spent years keeping you together and handling everything on my own and the one time I needed you to be the strong one you couldn't handle the responsibility. You want to know why I can't look at you? Why I don't want you touch me? It's because you make me sick. You're weak and a coward and I hate myself for being stupid enough to believe that you were more than that."

Skye shoved him away, unable to stomach being near him any longer.

She re-entered the dining room to find her parents standing, worry lining their features.

"Honey, I'm sorry-"

"Don't be." Skye went for the liquor cabinet and grabbed the first bottle she found. She uncorked it and took a long swig as she headed to the backyard, her entire body still shaking.

"Baby girl-" Skye shot her mother a 'don't' look before throwing herself into the nearest chair and taking another drink. She needed this; getting nice and drunk was long overdue.

Her dad moved to his knees and placed a gentle hand on hers. "But angel, what about-"

"He can handle things for once. If he gets to run away every chance he gets then I get to be irresponsible and drink," she replied angrily, taking another. "Besides, he's not so fucking useless than he can't wash a dish," she muttered, wondering if that was even true.

Skye wasn't going to hold back anymore. She was done pretending. She was sick of it. And there was no use in continuing the lie; it was clear to everyone how much they hated each other.

Melinda took a seat next to Skye and wrapped her arms around her, pulling her into a bear hug. She stroked Skye's hair, sending familiar feelings of warmth and love coursing through Skye, calming her. Within seconds the bottle fell to the floor as Skye buried her face into her mother's chest and began sobbing.

"It hurts so much, mommy."

Melinda kissed her temple and rocked her gently. "I know, baby. I know."

Phil wrapped his arms around the pair and kissed the top of Skye's head. "I'm pulling him from this mission. If I had known things were this bad I never would have authorized it. He doesn't get to run out on you. And I'm giving you both time off; you need it to work things out in therapy."

Skye fought back a sob. Her father was wonderful but the truth was, there was nothing to work out. Their marriage had been over for a long time, she just didn't have the heart to admit it. "Daddy, you don't have-"

"Of course I do. You're my daughter; after everything you've been through I'm not going to just sit back and watch you suffer. Fix your marriage, baby, and when you're both ready, the job will be there."

Skye didn't have the heart to tell him the truth so she just shook her head and nuzzled her mother's neck, still crying.

The realization that they couldn't go on living like this finally hit Skye full force. She knew it was time to walk away, so that they could both try to find some semblance of happiness, but she didn't like it. She regretted their fight, wishing she could go back to pretending their marriage was fine, just for a few more hours, because in the morning she needed to end things, for both their sakes.

Maybe it would be best if she slept in the nursery; she wasn't sure she trusted herself to share a bed with him, not tonight. All it would take was one accidental touch and she'd lose all of her resolve to do the right thing.

Skye closed her eyes and fought back a wave of nausea.

She was so fucked.

"It must be nice to be just like your mother," Grant muttered as he climbed into bed, thankful for its size. He didn't want to risk accidentally getting too close to her; with the way her temper kept flaring he could very well wind up underneath a pile of broken plaster.

Skye sighed and didn't even bother to open her eyes. "What now, Grant?" She asked, as if asking 'haven't we fought enough for one night?'

"I was just thinking it must be nice to not feel anything but anger; it would be a refreshing change." He was baiting her, trying to initiate a fight. It had been so long since they'd been this close, maybe it would stir something in her.

Because he knew she wasn't an unfeeling monster. He knew if she glanced over her shoulder right now he would see red, puffy eyes from a night of crying. He knew she felt everything.

But the problem was that she hid everything. Hid it from him. Hid it from her parents. From their friends. Skye tried so hard to be strong that she hid her pain from everyone. Grant knew he had failed her by not being there for her when she'd needed him and that was why she was pushing him away now, but some part of him thought that if he pushed her hard enough, maybe she would finally open up. And if she did that…maybe they had a chance at fixing this.

"Trust me, Grant; I feel everything. I just have to hide it from you because you've been too damn busy feeling sorry for yourself and failed to notice that every time I walk away from a fight it's to hide so I can cry in peace."

Now they were getting somewhere. He glanced over to find her still turned away from him, clutching her pillow.

"But, you're partially right; I'm dead inside and have been for a long time. So I guess the pain could be worse. Thanks for reminding me once again that your suffering is worse and I'm the monster."

No, no. This was not where he wanted this to go. "Skye, that's not what I-"

"Goodnight, Grant."

Grant ran both hands over his face and silently cursed his stupidity. Why did he feel the need to keep sabotaging things? Things were already bad enough without him trying to pick fights on purpose.

He sighed and glanced over at his sleeping wife. He watched her for a long moment, recalling all the nights he'd held her in his arms, counting her breaths, kissing her cute little nose every time it scrunched up as she dreamt, waking up to her mischievous grin demanding morning sex. He smiled sadly and touched the empty spot between them. He'd missed sharing a bed with her. Missed being close to her. Missed her.

"I love you, Skye," he whispered, finally saying the words he should have been saying every day since she'd given up on him. He realized now he didn't care if she rejected him; he was going to start fighting for her. If their marriage truly came to an end, he didn't want it to be because he was too scared to win her back. He'd done it once, he could do it again. And his heart was already broken; what did he care if it broke some more?