Disclaimer: I don't own Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D, Marvel or any of the characters or locations mentioned in this work of fanfiction.

This is my idea on how Grant Ward's redemption arc could go.
I wanna thank my lovely friends Cap and Ves for giving me tips on this fic. Without their patience and knowledge, I surely wouldn't be posting this.

Can't wait to read your comments on this fic :)

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that.

Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."

Martin Luther King

He felt cold. Colder than he imagined he should be when he woke up. He didn't know where he was or how long he had been inside this place, but he was clearly utterly alone for sure as he craned his neck and opened his eyes. Darkness engulfed him. Ward blinked expecting his vision to adjust to the somber room. He stood up from the make shift bed, his bare feet touching the ice-cold floor. He was partly relieved because his left foot hurts - thank you very much May - and he embraced the uncomfortable feeling. It could be worse. He could still be bleeding out. He wasn't sure why they bothered fixing him at all.

He touched the wall behind him, expecting it to be smooth but found it was scratchy as a rock and slight wet. The air was humid and salty to his nostrils, as if he was next to the sea. He closed his eyes to acclimatize his ears to the noises surrounding him. It was a far way sound, but he would bet his soul that it was waves crashing down. The sea would pull and then release its wave. First in a calm way and as the minutes passed by the waves became stronger, as if the sea itself could feel his inner turmoil. It was futile to look for a window. It was too dark and the waves have transformed themselves into a storm. Heaven and ocean fighting for dominance, perhaps that was what Ward had become a storm.

After all, didn't he take away Skye's love, FitzSimmons dreams, Coulson's trust, May's loyalty?

A bolt lighting crossed the sky. He only knew that because the sound reverberated throughout the four walls of his confined cell. Ward paced back to the bed. He laid down rubbing his tired eyes. He felt like screaming in anger but even that had been taken away from him.

"Who are you without him?" Coulson's words practically mocked him.

The storm grew louder as he tried to remain warm. However, it was an impossible task since the cold didn't come solely from the room but from the confines of his soul. His mind questioned him again "Who are you?" and the truth was he had absolutely no idea.

"Who is Grant Douglas Ward?" His tiredness was getting to him, and as he finally succumbed to sleep, his dreams were filled within questions, his subconscious confusing and querying him.

"Were you an Agent of SHIELD? Standard? By the books? Were you the lost boy Garrett found in juvie and molded into a murderer? Or were you still that frightened boy, burning down the house to protect his siblings from his parents' and older brother's cruelty? Were you that man the team had seen, the one they blindly trusted? The one that would jump out of a plane to rescue a fellow teammate simply out of the goodness of his heart - do you even have one for that matter?

He jerked up awake; the room was clearer but not much. He wondered if it was already day outside or perhaps mid afternoon. His mind travelled to better times, he shouldn't find comfort in remembering those days. He was a traitor, a useless piece of nothing and the faster he buried those 'feelings' the better it would be.

He bit his lower lip, his elbow resting on his knee as his left hand found his hair and massaged it.

He wasn't going to think about her, or her scent, the way her eyes shone whenever she won in Battleship. Nor about her brown hair cascading on her shoulders, or the way she twisted her little nose when she laughed with abandon. No, he wouldn't let Skye enter his thoughts. She was too far too precious to be in them.

He heard footsteps approaching and quickly laid down again, waiting for whatever punishment they had in store for him. Ward wondered which kind of torture they would inflict on him. Coulson had mentioned inventing new ways to ruin the rest of his life. As if he cared for his life. When Garrett allowed Deathlock to nearly kill him, Ward had been certain that his mere presence was futile. All his life wasted on a man that felt absolutely nothing towards him, except loathing.

He couldn't comprehend why someone would care for him. Why Skye had felt anything for him? Gave him her love - was it love - so freely and openly to him? And Fitz for that matter and his blind trust that he was indeed a good man?

The iron door was opened in a crack revealing that it was still a misty day. Cold wind entered the room, making Ward shiver and sit with his back touching the chill wall behind him. He opened his eyes to acknowledge the two figures standing there, a tall, built man and a small woman; both in suits. His inner mind laughed but his face was as stoic as ever.

The man pulled him up harshly, but Ward didn't put up a fight. He didn't have any strength left for a tantrum. When they were finally out of the room, the woman right behind them, Ward noticed his surroundings. The sky was cloudy and the sea was again fighting a losing battle. He was proven correct as they walk. They were indeed by the shore. His room was more like a hideout that was connected to a bridge that they followed until the compound, and if he had to guess, they were taking him to another part of the fortress.

It didn't go unnoticed by him that there were cameras all over the place. Well, Coulson had to check the progress eventually, did he not?

The agent, who clearly had no care kindness, shoved Ward inside an empty and cold cell. Not that it made any difference to him. He was pretty fond of the pain. He wasn't alien to it, there were times that all he felt and desired was pain, to easily embrace it. But the more time he spent with the team, the more this unhealthy habit was cast aside, making him feel lost, walking on eggshells, almost terrified of what he experienced. It had started with the science twins, his first day on the job with the constant battling of wits, then with the abnormal sense of justice and care his CO had with each one of them. Later he got used to the quietness of the Calvary, but what really caught him by surprise was the hacker, the variable he was not counting on. She was like a burst of rainbows, smiles and happiness, and without really noticing his whole being gravitated towards her.

Skye had been the only thing he had done without Garrett's consent, and she had slowly but fiercely, become his greatest weakness.

The man helped him up from where he had fallen on his knees and pulled him into a chair. After some minutes, he restrained his hands and the interrogation began. He was expecting mental torture as Coulson had promised him, but this? This was child's play. Beatings? He was far too used to it.

The next couple of days were pretty much a repetition, except they would change the methods. If it was a morning they would use electroshocks, which he honestly didn't mind. Maynard had done that to him more times than he could count. On the afternoon, it was waterboarding. Seriously, he would have laughed if he wasn't so weary. How stupid could this two be? It wasn't like he could scream his vexation since his larynx was still healing, but if Coulson wanted to give him a mental breakdown, he sure wasn't trying hard enough.

He imagined that dunking was on evenings when the sun was almost down, and he admitted more to himself than anyone else, that it was certainly the worst. However, it wasn't unwanted. He most certainly deserved it. The torture was shoddier because it made Ward remember his little brother Isaac. How powerless he was under Maynard's influence, and how he should have thrown the rope earlier instead of listening to his brothers cries and whimpers. How he should had begged more to his older brother, even shown him his feebleness so Isaac wouldn't suffer, but no, he was too afraid to do that.

Ward wasn't sure how long it had been, but it was long enough so his larynx was almost healed. Although his voice was hoarse. It was back, which meant that without really meaning to in the next electroshock session he had, a guttural yell slipped from his lips.

He was reaching his breaking point. The only thing keeping him in the light, was to think that he deserved it. He deserved every bit of the pain they were inflicting on him, maybe that way some of his penitence for all the wrongs he had made towards his siblings, to FitzSimmons, to May, to Coulson and mostly Skye would started being paid.

Lately, Ward had revived a habit long gone, taught by his grandmother when he was only a boy. Since Garrett's death Ward had started praying for his soul, to a God he wasn't sure it existed. But he wished it did, so he could at least see the faces of the only people he had ever cared for. To have the chance to see Fitz's blue eyes, Simmons white teeth showing up in a smile, Skye's brown locks falling over her shoulders. He didn't care for May's or Trip's forgiveness, he might never deserve another chance from Coulson either, but those three?

He would walk through the gates of Hell for them, except, they didn't know that.