Title: The Calm After the Storm
Author: snarkysweetness
Rating: R
Pairing: Skye/Ward
Summary: The first time it happened by accident. She swears the next time he initiated it on purpose. The third night he came to her, woken by the sound of her cries. By the fourth night, she didn't even bother to pretend, she just slipped into his pod, climbed into his bed, and rested her head above his heart and he held her there, knowing it was where she belonged.
Warnings: Triggers: Grant's PTSD after losing his agency to the staff and to Lorelei and remembering his shitty past. Skye dealing with the trauma of her shooting and nearly losing Coulson.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Notes: I wrote this with the Grant is a triple agent theory in mind just because imagine the fucking angst going on in his head. I'm a sucker for character pain, what can I say.
The first time it happened by accident.
He couldn't sleep, which was nothing new for him. As a child he feared sleep, feared being unable to be in control of his own safety by giving in to unconsciousness. It came in handy as a specialist, he'd adapted to getting by on very little rest. The night terrors didn't begin until The Academy, memories of his childhood which he'd tried so hard to shove down, lock away, crept up on him when he could no longer control them. After his first kill in the field, those memories faded, replaced by new horrors, new guilt. By the time his ledger dripped red he'd learned stop caring; shoved his emotions so far down even his unconscious mind could not access them.
And then he'd been stupid enough to touch that damn Berserker Staff and everything had gone to shit.
Grant stood at the tiny sink and tossed back some aspirin and a glass of water. He gripped the counter and closed his eyes, trying to block out the images of his dream.
It was the same one he'd had since he'd been forced to relive all of those childhood memories. He was back at that well only this time it wasn't his brother at the bottom. Skye was there, calling for him to step up and be her savior, and he wasn't a child anymore, he was a grown man and his brother wasn't the one controlling him. John was there, commanding him to take out his target, to kill the girl before she could compromise him, not knowing it was already too late.
The rage that had settled in him was too strong, threatened to expose his cover. He hated his mission; infiltrate Centipede, follow Garrett's orders, report back on Coulson, don't let either team know the truth. He'd been close to telling Fury to go fuck himself when he remembered that Centipede wanted Skye, he assumed for her skills as a hacker, but now he wasn't so sure. He hadn't meant to fall for his rookie, but there were some things you couldn't fight, and he wanted to keep her safe so he channeled his rage into anything he could, including letting May use him for sex. Sure, he'd much rather be with Skye but hell, what if he went into a rage? May could put him down, Skye was skilled, but not against a specialist with leftover Asgardian rage.
Not that it'd done any good; she'd been hurt anyway which is where the dream had changed. Now she wasn't just at the bottom of the well, she was there but unmoving, drenched in blood. He'd come too late to save her and before he could put a bullet between John's eyes he would wake, sweaty and filled with rage.
He should have been able to stop it. Should have known he couldn't hide Coulson's connection with Skye, it was clear to anyone who saw them together. The moment she became important to Coulson she was in danger. John was hell-bent on destroying Coulson, which was why Fury was on to him to begin with. He should have been with her, kept her safe, and now…
Grant knew the reason John was keeping things from him was because he knew. He had to. The moment Grant had seen her on the ground, fighting for her life, the realization that he loved her and had for some time became extremely clear, and he wondered if it wasn't obvious to his mentor and if that wasn't just another reason she'd been shot; to get her out of the way. Wasn't that what he'd feared when he began to feel things for her? That she'd be caught in the crosshairs? Why he tried so hard to push her away?
Well, there was nothing keeping them apart now. He was done with May, she'd already been hurt, and the only person who seemed not to know how he felt about her was Skye herself. Only, there was the guilt…so many things he couldn't tell her because he had orders. He was a good little soldier, after all; a good little soldier with so much bullshit running through his mind it was affecting his work.
When he wasn't dreaming of losing Skye he was reliving what Lorelei had done to him, reliving all of the abuse he'd suffered. It seemed no matter how hard he fought to be his own man it would never end. There would always be something or someone to control him.
He pressed his fingers into his forehead, wishing he could just throw back a few sleeping pills and get a proper night's sleep. But he couldn't allow himself the luxury. He knew the truth; that Hydra was out there, looking to make themselves known, a truth Fury was still sitting on. They were in constant danger and he needed to be on alert, to keep the team safe, to keep Skye safe. He wasn't going to allow anyone to get near her again, his mission be damned. He'd held off on putting a bullet through John Garrett and Ian Quinn so far but the urge was always there and he'd gladly throw away everything he'd worked for just to keep her safe.
Grant Ward was compromised and he no longer gave a fuck. If this was what it meant to be compromised then so be it. The things she made him feel made all of the hell this job came with worth it.
"Grant?"
He turned to find Skye standing in the doorway to her pod. He frowned. Had he screamed in his sleep? He usually didn't; it was why no one had caught on. Their pods were so tiny with no proper enclosures and all huddled together; everyone knew everything about the others for the most part.
"Did I wake you?" He whispered. Her pod was next to his; maybe he had-
Skye shook her head. "I um…I just needed…" She sighed and he noticed her nursing her middle. He pulled out a stool, wondering if she was in pain. Her recovery was coming along great, but she was still injured, too pale, too frail. He resisted the urge to touch her cheek and helped her onto the stool.
"Do you need anything? I think Simmons has your medicine in here somewhere-"
"I'm fine, really. I just…I can't sleep," she admitted.
He ran a hand over the top of her hair and looked her over. It was dark but the little light in the room filtering in through the windows and machinery from the lab showed how red her eyes were. She'd been crying. He cupped her cheek, feeling like an ass. If he was having trouble sleeping, he could only imagine what she was going through. The only father she'd ever known was tortured and almost killed and then she'd been shot, twice, nearly bled out, been saved by an alien drug, and then been in a coma. All of that on top of who knew what kind of childhood trauma she'd kept hidden from them.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Grant wasn't one for speaking words aloud; he tended to keep everything bottled in, but not his Skye. She loved getting everything out in the open, which was why he was worried. She'd been secretive, holding things in. Her near-death had changed her and now losing her to death wasn't the only way he feared losing her.
Skye shook her head, surprising him.
"I…" She chewed her bottom lip.
"Just say it, Skye, it's just me."
She may never return his feelings but he was still her S.O. she could trust him.
She glanced down at her lap, her cheeks going red. "I just…I remember when I was recovering, you would stay with me…I mean, I think, I don't know, I could have been drea-"
"No, I barely left your side," he admitted barely above a whisper. There was no reason not to, the entire team knew. He'd held her hand and encouraged her to keep fighting and allowed everyone on the bus to see that she was his weakness. It was foolish to let down his walls like that, but he hadn't been able to leave her.
She glanced up and met his eyes. "I remember I felt safe. No one's going to get to me when black Kevlar's by my side," she teased.
"Skye, what are you-"
"Well, you're up, which means you can't sleep either, so I was thinking…I mean…it's stupid."
"Hey, just tell me," he said, taking her had.
Skye hesitated for a moment before whispering. "Will you stay with me? Just until I fall asleep? I keep remembering…" She bit her lip. "Maybe if I feel safe I'll be able to stay asleep. I know the drugs Simmons has will help but…I just want to get better and pick up my training and I can't do that if I'm high all the time."
He couldn't help the urge to press his lips to her forehead. She was so brave. All she wanted to do was throw herself back into fighting the good fight and he admired that. He was so proud of her. She was going to make one hell of an agent, one of the best, right up there with Romanoff. He just needed to help keep her alive long enough to get there.
"Anything you need, rookie," he whispered as he took her hand. She smiled up at him gratefully as he led her to her bunk. Their beds were barely enough for one person, let alone two, but they made it work. She lay sprawled over his chest while he held her protectively, stroking her hair.
"Why couldn't you sleep?" She whispered and he shrugged.
"No real reason."
"You're a terrible liar." He smiled. If only she knew. "You know I'm here, when you're ready?"
He nodded and pressed his lips to her temple. "Try to sleep, sweetheart, nobody's getting to you with me here."
She swears the next time he initiated it on purpose.
She'd slept blissfully in his arms, better than she'd slept in weeks. He was a rock, solid, dependable. She'd seen how easily he could eliminate threats and she knew she was safe with him. Her mistake had been going into Quinn's compound alone, had she waited for her dark knight in his Kevlar wielding a glock and his kick-ass moves, maybe she wouldn't have nearly died. But instead she'd had to be a big damn hero going in to avenge Coulson. So stupid, it was her own damn fault she'd been shot, along with the bastard who'd done it of course.
For someone who'd spent most of her life believing she'd been abandoned, unwanted, she slept surprisingly well. Skye wasn't one to dwell on things. Life was life. Everyone had something and denying her body the rest it needed by overanalyzing every shitty thing going on seemed like a waste.
Then she'd been shot and everything had gone to hell.
She dreamt of Coulson being tortured, begging to die, the team dying before her eyes, of losing Grant to the Berserker rage, all while she was forced to watch. When she'd been under, her body shutting down and too drugged to wake, she'd been trapped. The only comfort came when she felt Grant by her side, holding her hand, stroking her hair, whispering words of encouragement to her. At first she thought they were dreams, until she slowly began to come to. She remembered flashes: Coulson crying at her bedside, Fitz helping Jemma keep it together while she tried to care for her, even May's concerned face.
When she finally woke she'd hoped being able to sleep without being induced will help stave off her nightmares, but she'd been wrong. She relived her shooting every night; the pain, the fear, the look on the team's faces and God, the look on Grant's face, like his entire world was shattering. It wasn't until she was dying that she realized he loved her in return. And Coulson….the day she'd helped rescue him was one of the worst in her life. Seeing him begging for death, knowing he'd been tortured, experienced a horror no one should ever have to know…and then he'd almost lost her. They were a family, she couldn't bear to lose any of them and she was so used to losing everything. So when she closed her eyes, it was either the dreams of losing them or the sheer force of her fear that sent her into a panic that kept her from sleeping.
She was seriously debating seeking Grant out. She knew she wasn't the only one dealing with terrible shit. For God's sake, he'd been raped and he refused to talk about it. She didn't care how macho he wanted to be, he'd been brainwashed into hurting people, into having sex with Lorelei after a childhood filled with abuse. That would fuck up a normal person and while he wasn't exactly normal, he wasn't made of stone. He was her rock and she wanted to be his anchor but he was too damn stubborn to allow that to happen.
He loved her, everyone knew it, hell she'd known it for months. She was just patient enough to know a man like Grant Ward didn't do love and needed to come to terms with it on his own time, but since her shooting he hadn't even tried to hide it. If he couldn't open up to her, couldn't trust her with his demons…she sighed.
You couldn't help someone who didn't want it. He'd come to her, in time, and until then she needed to deal with this. She couldn't go running to him every time she had a bad dream. She'd been through worse and survived, she'd get through this.
After tossing for another hour she gave up trying to sleep and slipped out of her pod for a glass of water and maybe a few rounds with the punching bag. Jemma would not be pleased, but Skye was also growing restless. She couldn't be bed-ridden all day; she needed to get her energy out. She longed for the day she could throw herself into training again. It was nice, being able to fall into bed so physically exhausted your mind had no strength left to torment you in your dreams.
The first thing she saw when she emerged was Grant on the couch, once again reading his old tattered copy of Matterhorn. She almost laughed but then he glanced up and gave her one of those sly grins and she wondered what it would be like to kiss him. She shook the thought off and grabbed her water before joining him.
"Can't sleep either," she asked as she took a seat across from him on the table.
"No, I just felt like reading tonight," he replied with a nonchalant shrug. "You?"
Skye rolled her eyes. Why did he even try to lie to her? She could see right through him. She plucked the book out of his hand and tossed it aside before climbing onto his lap. He slid his arms around middle as she wrapped hers around his neck and pressed her head against his chest. They fit nicely together, comfortably, like they'd been doing this for years.
Grant pressed his lips against the top of her head before gently stroking her back. "I'll stay with you if you want."
She nodded. "Let's stay here for a while, this is nice."
She doesn't remember falling asleep in his arms or how they got back to his pod only waking in bed with his scent still clinging to her skin.
The third night he came to her, woken by the sound of her cries.
"Shh, come here, sweetheart," he whispered, pulling her into his arms. She wrapped both arms around him, burying her face in his neck before sobs took over her body once more.
"He shot you, he shot you," she sobbed as he stroked her hair.
"No, shh, I'm right here, it was only a dream."
"There was so much blood…" Grant forced his eyes to stay open as he fought of visions of her lying in a pool of her own blood, barely clinging to life. His best and worst memories involved her and he never wanted to relive that nightmare again. "And we couldn't save you in time-" She began to cry harder and Grant pulled back so he could wiped the tears from her face.
"I'm here, I promise, you're not going to lose me," he whispered as he cupped her cheek. "I promise." He pressed his lips to her forehead as she took deep breaths to calm herself.
"Every night it's the same thing…I get shot and I relive it all over again and then it changes and then it's Jemma or Leo and A.C. or May and I have to lose them all and then when I think it can't get worse it's you dying in my arms-"
"Shh," he pulled her close and held her tightly. "I know," he admitted as he rocked her in his arms. "All of my nightmares are about losing you."
Skye drew away and blinked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. She rested her palm on his cheek. "Oh…Grant…" She leaned up and pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth. "I won't let anyone take me from you," she whispered as she moved her hands into his hair.
Grant took her hands into his and pressed his lips to her knuckles. "And I won't let anyone hurt you again," he promised before drawing her against his chest once more.
By the fourth night, she didn't even bother to pretend, she just slipped into his pod, climbed into his bed, and rested her head above his heart and he held her there, knowing it was where she belonged.
Weeks later she lay sprawled over his chest, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat.
"I love you," he whispered, thinking she was asleep, and she surprised him by lifting her head from his chest and pressing her lips to his.
"I know," she whispered before kissing him again. His fingers slid into her hair as she cupped his face in her hands. She broke the kiss a moment later and pressed her forehead against his. "I love you too."
Today they would go after the man responsible for her shooting, they were so confident they had an entire team on loan from The Hub. And instead of feeling relief the knowledge they could both die was all she could think about.
"Don't forget you promised to never leave me. I'm going to hold you to that."
He blinked back at her sadly before kissing her once more. She knew he was avoiding the issue, unable to make her false promises, so she didn't press the issue. Instead she wrapped herself around him and gave him a reason to live through this mission and come home to her.