Written for the prompt: Skye gets hurt on a mission protecting Ward, he goes ballistic add realises he really likes her.
Not sure I did the ballistic part but oh, well :)


It wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to get hurt. More specifically, she wasn't supposed to get hurt saving him.

The bullet she'd been hit with had been meant for him. He'd known it was coming, heard the shot, but Ward hadn't been able to get out of the way in time. In the fleeting seconds after realising what was going to happen, he'd accepted his fate. The bullet would have hit his chest, probably his heart, and his own thought at the time had been "at least the others got away."

Only they hadn't.

She hadn't.

He cursed her in his mind even as his grip on her hand tightened.

She should have left when he told her to, followed his orders like a good rookie should follow their SO without question...

... Only Skye wasn't like most rookie agents, certainly like none he'd worked with before. Oh, she was good – when she applied herself. Sharp as a tack and quick to learn, he had no doubt that one day she'd make a damn good agent. One day when she got over whatever fear or self-doubt was making her hold back.

But Skye would never be one to follow orders if it meant someone being left behind or being hurt when there was a way she could prevent it – even if the only way she had of doing that was to put herself in danger.

"Damn it, Skye, what were you thinking?"

She didn't answer. The machines attached to her beeped and hissed but he could draw no comfort from their presence or the sounds they made.

She wasn't supposed to be here. Not like this. Not because of him.

"Why did you do it? Why couldn't you just listen, for once, and do what you were told?"

"You told her to leave you knowing you were probably going to die. Did you really think she'd listen?"

To his credit, Ward didn't jump. But if his hand tightened around Skye's and his shoulders tensed in preparation to defend her, well, he'd never admit to it.

Glancing over at the doorway to the lab-come-medical bay, he watched May look at Skye, noting the flash of emotion in the older agent's eyes before it was gone, concealed by the mask Melinda May wore best. He looked away just as May turned her sharp gaze to him, and he studied Skye as though he hadn't spent the last five hours doing just that.

Was it his imagination or did her face look a little less pale than it had? Was that a good thing or should he call Simmons just to check...?

"You look like crap," May told him bluntly. "Go and get something to eat and hit your bunk."

"I'm not leaving." He wasn't Not until Skye woke up and he could yell at her the way he wanted, tell her she was irresponsible and reckless and demand to know what gave her the right to sacrifice herself to save him?

May heaved a sigh. "You're not helping her by wearing yourself out. You need to eat and you need to sleep."

"I will. When I know she's going to be okay." May didn't respond to that so he looked up to find her watching him, a speculative and almost knowing expression on her face. "What?"

Shaking her head, May didn't answer directly. "One more hour, Ward. Then you're letting someone else take a turn. You're not the only one who's worried about her."

No, he thought as she left him alone with Skye once more. But he was the only one to blame for what had happened to her.


The next person to try and talk him into leaving Skye was Coulson.

Somehow, Ward wasn't surprised when the team leader arrived at the lab and wordlessly pulled up another chair on the opposite side of the bed. He knew Coulson had a soft spot for the former Rising Tide hacker – had to have, otherwise she'd have been thrown off the Bus when it had been revealed she'd been in touch with her former group.

For a long while, the two men sat in silence, each holding a vigil for the woman on the table-come-bed between them.

"It's not your fault, you know," Coulson said eventually, his tone companionable. "You couldn't have stopped her."

Ward clenched his jaw. "I should have." He tore his gaze away from Skye to glance at his boss. "I should have known she'd try something."

"You can't have predicated she would jump between you and a bullet, Ward. And even if you could, that was her decision to make."

"It was the wrong one." He was sure of it. "She shouldn't have done it."

"If she hadn't, we wouldn't be sitting here now." Coulson shrugged almost casually. "You'd be dead, and I hate to imagine what she'd be like." His expression didn't change as he held Ward's gaze. "FitzSimmons said she's going to be fine. Why don't you go and get something to eat?"

His stomach growled a little but he shook his head stubbornly. "I'm not leaving."

"Ward." Coulson sighed, his exasperation beginning to show. The concern on his face was for more than the woman seemingly sleeping between them but Ward didn't acknowledge it. "I'm not saying you have to stay away. Just go and get something to eat. Take a break. Come back with a book. She's probably not going to wake up for a few more hours yet."

"I'll stay until she does."

"Even if I make it an order?"

Ward squared his shoulders. "Are you making it an order?"

Coulson sighed after a moment and shook his head. He stayed sitting for a few moments more and then stood, released the hand he'd been holding, and left.


Simmons appeared not more than two hours later but, thankfully, she didn't try to talk him out of staying.

She instead handed him a sandwich without saying a word, accepted the nod of thanks he gave her with a small smile and got to work checking on the readings from the various machines hooked up to Skye.

Ward watched, his stomach churning, as he tried to decipher the expression on her face.

After what felt like a lifetime, she gave him another smile, this one a little brighter. "Her vitals are getting stronger," she told him, patting him on the shoulder as she moved towards the door. "I wouldn't be surprised if she woke up soon."

Soon, Ward thought, couldn't come soon enough.


Fitz was next. Though he claimed he'd been sent to the lab to fetch something Simmon's had left behind earlier, he brought Ward a bottle of water and stood silently beside Skye's bed for a few minutes.

"It's hard, isn't it?" Fitz murmured after a while. "Not being able to do anything. Feeling helpless. Wishing you'd said all the things you don't know how to say when she was in a position to hear them." He shot Ward a sympathetic look when the older agent looked at him in surprise. "I'm glad I got a second chance with Jemma. Maybe you should look at this as your second chance with Skye."

The scientist left before Ward had figured out what to say in response, his hands empty of the mythically object he'd been sent to retrieve.

Ward's gaze returned to Skye and he clasped her limp hand in both of hers, pondering Fitz's advice and wondering how to put what he thought – felt – into words when his rookie woke up.


Eight hours after Ward's vigil began, the agent fell asleep, his head resting on the bed beside Skye's hand.

Eight hours and thirty minutes after his vigil began, Skye woke up. She looked around in confusion, her sluggish brain taking a few moments longer than normal to process where she was and remember what had happened.

When she did, she tried to sit up, worry surging through her as she thought of her SO...

... and then she saw him, alive and well - apart from the crick she was sure he would have in his neck after sleeping in such an awkward position - and she allowed herself to relax.

Her attempt at moving disturbed him and he jolted awake. He tensed for a moment, searching the room for any sign of what had woke him and then he saw her.

Skye smiled, it was a little weak but it was a smile nonetheless.

Unable to speak past the lump in his throat, Ward smiled back.


End.