Agent Grant Ward, the middle son and second child of two prominent but abusive parents, had learned to love his job ever since he was appointed to the position of specialist within the organization known as SHIELD. Like many military and government organizations, their organization was dedicated to the protection of the population. Due to his constant daunting and dangerous missions, he rarely allowed himself to feel anything akin to affection for any of the women who found themselves in his bed.
And then, without much warning, his wife had entered his life, and she had changed his views on everything he thought he had once believed.
He had been a spy sent by HYDRA on a simple mission. He was to gather intelligence on Agent Philip Coulson and report back to Agent John Garrett, the man who had trained him for both SHIELD and HYDRA. He had been willing to do so, as well, until the moment that she walked into his life. She was an infuriating woman he had never known he would fall in love with.
And she was the reason he had abandoned HYDRA, abandoned the only father he had ever known. Not because he was ready to do so, or because he even desired to, only because John Garrett had tried to kill her, and he couldn't stand for that. She was the only weakness that Grant Ward had, and he knew that only she had the power to destroy him.
She didn't.
When she had looked into his medical records with him in the room, she had looked towards him, eyes glistening, and whispered apologies again and again, her hand finding his as she kissed his bandaged fingers. She had curled up in his arms, tears cascading down her cheeks, and he had known that he was just as much a weakness for her as she was for him. Unlike him, though, she didn't mind it.
He was her only weakness for years. And then came along another.
It had been a moment of panic when he sat beside his wife, staring at a pink line protruding from a white stick. His mother and father had been the reason he was willing to destroy the only people who had ever shown any signs of compassion towards him. What if he destroyed his child the way his parents had destroyed him?
It wasn't a fear that lasted long, however. Soon he was in the nursery, a small bunk on the plane, staring into the empty bassinette, and swearing that he would die to defend his child. Two weeks after he learned that his wife was pregnant, he heard his child's heartbeat for the first time, and he promised the infant that he would defend them once again.
It was a little girl, he learned when he returned from a weeklong mission three weeks later. He smiled at the image, tears pricking his eyes for the first time since his wife had said 'I do', and he knew that she would likely be as difficult as her mother. He didn't particularly mind.
It was for this reason that he supplied a profuse argument when Coulson informed him he would be going undercover for a short mission eight weeks before his wife's due date. Skye, being herself, had insisted that he go, telling him that she and their daughter would be fine while he was away and that missing six days of her pregnancy wouldn't cause her to divorce him.
She was right about being fine for six days, of course, and she would have been fine for the six weeks he was forced to be away had it not been for the fact that their daughter had inherited her mother's timing and her father's impatience. His cover was blown when Coulson called and informed him that Skye was in labor and they were in Sweden waiting for a doctor.
It took three hours to get there. Ward knew this because he was glancing at his clock every five and a half seconds. Skye would have been amused had she been there with him, but she wasn't. She was busy giving birth to their child while he was on a plane, which was on his short list of reasons to kick her pseudo-father's ass.
He ran towards the bus the moment that the military escort Coulson had called had dropped him off at the airbase, and he glared at Natasha Romanoff as she moved to embrace him. She was a dear friend, of course, but the fact that she moved to do so when his wife was moments away from giving birth.
He entered the plane and ignored the Avengers strewn everywhere. He had learned to never question anything that occurred on the bus, which was probably a good thing. Skye had informed him over a recent phone call that they had all been told that Coulson was alive and well, and that they had begun to think of her and the rest of the younger generation of agents as their nieces and nephews in much the same way that Coulson thought of them as his children.
"Hi," he said when he reached the bunk he and his wife shared, wincing when he saw her glare. "I know, baby. Blame your father."
"I plan to. Get your ass over here," she said, groaning through another contraction and reaching for his hand. "Jemma, when can I push?"
"Not yet," Jemma said sympathetically, glancing up at them. "You're nine centimeters. It's not safe until you are ten."
"Grant!" Skye snapped, and Ward glanced down at his wife, leaning and kissing her forehead.
"I love you."
"I love you, too," Skye said, her hand becoming limp in his as the contraction passed. "Now, though, I want to kick your ass."
"You did this to her," Jemma explained at his confused look.
"Jemma, I need to push!" Skye snapped.
"Now you can," Jemma said, struggling to calm her.
Grant held his wife's hand, cheering her on as she delivered their daughter, and was forced to blink back tears when the squalls of his newborn daughter filled the small bunk. Jemma smiled at him as she handed the baby over.
"Would you like to cut the cord?" Jemma questioned.
"Will I hurt her?" he questioned, nervous.
"No," Jemma assured him, laying the baby in the open incubator designated to clean and dress the baby. She instructed him in the cutting of the cord and washed his daughter gently with towels and a sponge before strapping a diaper onto her, buttoning her onesie, and adjusting the pink cap atop her headful of dark locks.
"Congratulations on the birth of your daughter," Jemma said, smiling as she handed the baby over to her father. "I'll come check on you again in a few moments. I'll tell the rest of them that she's healthy."
"Jemma," Skye called after her.
Their friend turned slowly, smiling.
"Thanks," Skye said softly, her eyes on the infant that she held.
"Of course," Jemma said, smiling when Ward hugged her. She kissed his cheek, patted his shoulder, and exited the room.
"She's beautiful," Skye breathed, her eyes on their daughter. "She's absolutely gorgeous." She raised her tear-filled eyes to her husband. "We made this, Ward. We made her."
"I know," Ward said, smiling as he stared down at his daughter. "She does need a name, you know," he said, brushing his lips across her forehead. "We can't just keep calling her 'her' and expect her to answer."
"Avery Linn," Skye supplied.
"You don't want to name her after your mother?"
"Linda Avery and Melinda May are the closest thing to a mother that I have ever had."
Ward nodded, his eyes on their daughter. "Avery Linn it is. Hi, Avery. I'm your dad," he said when Skye handed her over.
"I want to get cleaned up a bit, but you can take her outside and show her off like I know that you're dying to," Skye said, pecking his cheek and adjusting the blanket around their daughter so that it covered her foot.
Ward nodded as he walked from the room, the baby cradled protectively against his chest. He smiled as she cooed gently around her pacifier, burying her head into his chest, and he kissed the top of her cap-covered head.
"Is that her?" Coulson said, standing the moment that he turned the corner with the baby in his arms. "How is Skye?"
"She's cleaning up," Ward said.
"Of course," May said, shaking her head. "She's the only person on this bus who would bother to do that after bringing a child into the world."
"Well, it certainly was normal when I was her age," Peggy Carter supplied from several feet away. Skye had informed him that being kissed by Captain Rogers had caused Peggy to stop aging, but he hadn't known that she was on the plane. She had a motherly smile on her face, causing him to assume that she was close to his wife. Most people were. Skye was broken in such a way that she caused warmth to be cast upon everyone around her. "The nurses would actually force the husbands to leave the room when the babies were born. It was the respectful thing to do. I never saw much respectable about making the women endure the pain on their own."
Captain Rogers smiled at her, his eyes focused on her face, and Ward didn't know how or why, but it was obvious that they were together. He carefully focused on his mother-in-law once again, smiling when she extended her arms in the direction of his sleeping daughter.
"How is she?" May asked when she was handed the small bundle of pink and white.
"Skye's doing fine," Ward said, his eyes on his daughter. "Avery's perfect, right?" he said to the scientist who stood a few feet away.
Jemma nodded immediately. "Four pounds, eight ounces, eighteen inches long. She's petite, but she is as healthy as they come." She leaned back against Fitz, causing him to lean down and kiss her head. "Is Skye doing okay?"
"She forced me out of there." Ward shook his head as he adjusted his daughter's blanket when her foot came untucked. "She's a very intimidating person when she wants to be."
"I know," Skye said, smiling as she entered the room. She had traded her pink nightgown for a deep blue sweater and black slacks. She wore blue flats on her feet and had applied makeup to her features. Her hair was in a loose ponytail.
"It doesn't seem as though you had a baby under an hour ago," Jemma said, flashing her friend a smile.
"But she did. Should you be out of bed?" Grant asked his wife.
She smiled at him. "I got out of bed after being shot twice in the abdomen. Delivering a baby is nothing compared to that."
"Don't joke about that, please, for the sake of my sanity," Grant said, wrapping an arm around her and kissing the top of her head.
"Does she have a name, or do we have to keep calling her mini-Skye?" Tony Stark said from several feet away. Ward blinked down at his daughter. He would never get used to being surrounded by these people.
"She actually looks nothing like me. If it wasn't for the excruciating pain I'd think she was found in the mail," Skye joked. "We named her," she added. "Her name is Avery Linn Ward."
"I thought you would name her after your mother?"
"My mother was the woman who brought me into the world. She is the reason that I am here. I have to give her credit for that. But that's all I have to give her credit for. She wasn't a mom. If I'm going to honor someone, it should be my mom." Skye smiled as May blinked back tears. "Linda Avery gave her life for me so that I could live my own, and you've almost done the same so many times. That's something to honor, not delivering a child."
Everyone in the room was silent as May embraced the daughter she had not bore but loved as her own. Skye wiped away tears and laughed, emotion obvious. "Hormones," she excused flippantly, a radiant smile curving her lips as she accepted her daughter into her arms. "Avery Linn, you have the best family in the whole wide world."
Avery blinked up at her, dark eyes closing and showing off long eyelashes, and Grant smiled as she clutched more tightly to his finger. He had not known a family as a child. Neither had Skye. They had both been lost in different ways when they had met. He stared at his girls, their faces angelic and full of hope, and he knew that he would never be alone again. They wouldn't allow him to be.
That was what the true meaning of family was.