So, this is a fic that I actually really enjoyed writing, but was really sad while writing it.

Warning: This deals a lot with suicide and being depressed. It could be triggering. Please do not read if you think it might be.
Disclaimer: I do not own Agents of SHIELD or Teen Wolf (you'll understand that if you watch the show and remember the episode 'Motel California' and the dialog between a very heartbreaking Scott & Stiles scene.
Title isfrom 'Love Her' by Seether.
Enjoy...

...

Ward had almost fallen asleep when he hears a crash outside his room and a muffled curse before someone is pounding on his door frantically, yelling for him to open the door.

He stumbles out of bed quickly, opening the door in search of danger. Fitz stands before him, looking extremely worried.

"What? What's going on?" he asks, looking around for Hydra agents or a giant lizard or something. Nothing looked out of the ordinary.

"It's Skye," Fitz says before hesitating for a second, "I think she's gonna kill herself."

Ward feels cold fear slash through him as he processes what he said. He had known she was feeling depressed recently, like she was helpless when it came to her newly acquired powers, but he hadn't known it would get this bad. But he had always known she was good at hiding her feelings, and it couldn't have been easy for her when they ran into her dad earlier, when he had almost convinced her she was a monster that only he understood before Grant had come and taken her away. Manipulative jerk.

"Where is she?" he asks, walking out the door and down the hall quickly.

"The garage," Fitz says and Ward breaks into a sprint, trying to get there as fast as he could.

The garage? That was odd. If he was planning to kill himself, he would have gone to the shooting range. But when he got to the garage and saw her, he understood.

She was soaked from head to toe in what he would guess was gasoline, if the overwhelming smell in the room was anything to go by, and holding a lit road flare in her hand, eyes dark and blank.

She didn't just want to die. She wanted to suffer.

Simmons was standing in front of her, trying desperately to convince her to put the flare down. But Skye wasn't listening, her eyes glassy with pain.

"Skye?" he asks tentatively, stepping towards her cautiously, eyeing the flare she held arm's length away from her.

She looks up slowly and stares at him, eyes dark from the emotions swirling behind them. The desperation there terrifying him.

"There's no hope," she says, her voice equal parts empty and anguished as fissures etch their way into his heart.

"What do you mean, Skye? There's always hope," Simmons says softly, trying to keep her tears at bay, her voice quivering from the effort.

"Not for me. Not for Tripp."

"Tripp wasn't your fault," she says shaking her head fiercely, trying desperately to get through to her, "You know Tripp wasn't your fault."

"Every time I try to fight back it gets worse," she says, voice trembling, ground trembling in sync with it, "People keep getting hurt," another shuddering breath, "People keep getting killed."

"Skye, listen to me, okay?" Grant says, stepping forward cautiously, holding his hands up slightly, "This isn't you, alright? This is your father inside your head telling you to do this. Okay, now-"

"What if it isn't?" Skye interrupts, voice still heartbreakingly empty, but he can see the tears forming in her eyes, "What if it is just me? What if doing this is actually the best thing that I could do for everyone else?" she asks, taking another deep, shuddering breath, "It all started that day. The day SHIELD picked me up. You remember the way it was before that?" he nods his head slightly, if only to keep her talking long enough for him to figure out a way to fix this, "I was, I was nothing. I wasn't well known, I wasn't good at protecting myself," she paused to collect herself, pushing her tears back and his heart broke even more, "I wasn't important. I was no one. Maybe I should just be no one again. No one at all," she said with more conviction, raising the road flare higher and Grant panicks.

"Skye just listen to me, okay?" he says taking another cautious step forward, "You're not no one. Okay? You're someone, you're-," he breaks off, trying to keep his emotions under control, "Skye, you're my best friend, okay? And I need you," he says, staring into her eyes, begging her to believe him, "Skye, you're my soul mate. Alright? So if you're going to do this then-," he says, stepping into the gasoline and putting his hand over hers, gripping the road flare tightly, "You're just gonna have to take me with you, then."

Her broken expression shatters his heart and he tightens his grip on the road flare, staring into her eyes as he yanks it out of her hand, handing it carefully to Simmons, before wrapping her in his arms tightly. The smell of gas was burning his nose, but as she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest, he couldn't bring himself to care, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

"Let's get you cleaned up, okay?" he says gently, pulling back to look into her eyes.

She nods numbly and lets him pull her upstairs to his bathroom where he makes her sit on the toilet lid as he wets a washcloth with warm water and soap. When he crouches in front of her, rubbing the washcloth gently up and down her arm, she stares into his eyes, and he can see desperation in their dark depths.

"I was going to do it," she says and he looks up at her with such tenderness in his eyes, such understanding, it makes her heart ache.

"I know," he murmurs, switching from one arm to the other as he washes the slick gasoline from her skin.

"I just," she sighs and yanks a hand through her dripping hair, "I can't do this anymore. I can't sit here and watch people get hurt, get killed, because of me."

"Not because of you," he argues gently and she laughs bitterly.

"Please, just, don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying. I promised I would never do that again, remember?"

She gives him the saddest smile and he hates what he sees in her eyes. So much darkness haunting her, shadows and pain bleeding out of her, threatening to consume her. It was an expression he knew very well. He saw it every day when he looked in the mirror.

"Let's get you out of these clothes," he suggests and she nods, allowing him to pull her shirt over her head before standing and peeling her jeans off. He takes her wet clothes and puts them in the sink before moving back towards her, wiping her face gently with a newly wet washcloth.

"I think a nice warm shower is what you need," he murmurs and she nods again, eyes closed as he tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.

He presses a quick kiss to her forehead before walking to the shower and turning on the water, waiting for it to warm up.

"Ward?" he hears her call tentatively behind him.

"Yeah?" he says, turning back to her with a gentle smile.

"After the shower…" she trails off.

"What?" he encourages.

"Can I wear one of your shirts?" she asks and he must look surprised because she quickly adds, "It's just, they smell like you and it makes me feel better."

He walks towards her and pulls her into another hug, her arms automatically wrapping around his waist as he rubs her back soothingly.

"Of course you can, Skye," he says and she pulls away, smiling weakly.

"Thanks," she says. He starts to walk out of the bathroom to give her privacy before she reaches out and touches his arm, "Wait."

He looks at her curiously and she looks a little embarrassed, "What is it?"

"Can you stay? I just. I just don't really want to be alone right now."

"Are you sure?" he asks and she nods, "Okay. Just let me go get you a shirt."

He quickly makes his way into his room, pulling out a t-shirt, a soft, worn shirt he's had for years, and a pair of boxers for her to wear before walking back into the bathroom, sitting the clothes down by the shower where Skye had entered during his absence after placing her bra and underwear with her clothes in the sink.

"Ward?" she calls.

"I'm right here," he says, "I'm not going anywhere."

He starts washing her clothes as she showers, trying to get the smell of gasoline out of them. By the time he's done and has hung the clothes on his towel rack to dry, she has gotten out of the shower and wrapped her hair up in towel, already dressed in his clothing. He gives her a gentle smile and she returns it reluctantly. He reaches for her hand, entwining their fingers together and guides her to his room, sitting her down on his bed. She gives him a small smile that he returns sweetly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks, but he thinks he already knows the answer.

"Not really," she says, like he was expecting, "At least, not right now."

He nods understandingly as she hugs a pillow to her chest, pressing her face into it. He stands, walking over to his dresser before going back and sitting down. He tugs the towel off her hair, running his fingers through it soothingly, avoiding the tangles so as not to hurt her. When she looks up at him, he holds a brush up with a small smile.

"May I?" he asks and she nods, turning her back to him so he could brush her hair.

As he gently works the tangles out of her hair, she clutches the pillow tightly to her chest, trying to keep her tears from falling and enjoy the feeling of the brush running through her hair softly, much gentler than she would be with her hair. When he runs his fingers softly through her now untangled hair, she turns back to him, tears welling in her eyes.

He quickly pulls her into him, holding her tightly to him as she finally lets go and cries. He rocks her back and forth gently as she shakes from her sobs, stroking her hair softly and whispering reassuring words. He carefully guides them so that he's leaning against the headboard with her curled up into his chest, crying into the crook of his neck.

"I'm sorry," she chokes, fists clenching the front of his shirt tightly, "I'm so sorry."

He doesn't know exactly what she's apologizing but he rubs her back soothingly and kisses the top of her head.

"Shhh," he murmurs, "It's okay. You're okay," he repeats this over and over until he hears her sobs quiet to soft whimpers and finally her breathing evens out and her fists relax, releasing his shirt, as she falls asleep.

He presses a soft kiss to the top of her head, running his fingers gently through her hair as he stares down at her tear-stained face.

Someday, he vows, he would make her pain go away. He would make her feel like a person who was loved and extraordinary in the best ways. He would try his hardest to pull the shadows out of her, bring back the bright light he fell in love with all that time ago.

But right now, he would just lay with her and let her know that she's not alone. Right now, he would wipe the tears from her eyes and kiss her forehead and try to comfort her in the best way he knew how. To just be with her and listen.

And right now, that was enough.

...

Well? What did you think? I had had a really bad day when I had written this and it made me feel better. I should have the next chapters of A Convenient Friendship and What's Up, Neighbor up soon. And if anyone was wondering, I do take fic requests (but I'm not very good at smut). Okay, well, I hope you enjoyed it.