Did I say tomorrow? Well, yeah, it is tomorrow over here. I posted at exactly 11:29 and it's 1:40 over here so it's basically tomorrow. Someone suggested that I write Simmons telling Fitz so I'm going to make this a threeshot and make the last part all nice and happy because this one makes me feel good but depressed at the same time. This one's actually really good, but it's just not happy. Alright, ignore my rambling and read.
Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel or Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Unless you'd love to sell me the rights of course.
"Need company?"
No reply.
"Come on Ward, can you just please say something?"
No reply.
"Anything?"
Still no reply.
The last word sounded so meek and soft to her own ears. He still sat in the same spot where she'd left him, nursing what must have been his fourth glass of scotch. Agent May had left, much too smart to let herself get intoxicated when she was in charge of flying a plane. Plus solitude was more important to her.
She swallowed and thought about how it was better that he get angry than he not talk to her at all. She wanted to hear him say something to her, to not be that cold block of ice that she loathed. His anger, in a strange way, was a sort of affection that she craved.
"I know that you can't stand to look at me,"
She thought of how he didn't even turn around when she'd asked him if he would speak to Coulson with her. She felt hurt and betrayed and she imagined that what her S.O. felt were here feelings multiplied by a thousand; irreparable damage, if you asked her.
"And that you don't even want to talk to me ever again,"
He wouldn't say a single word to her and that was what made her skin crawl. She liked Ward when he tried to block or counter any of her smart remarks and retorts. It was like a game of Battleship that she'd not only lost, but gave up on the moment she'd warned Miles.
"But I guess you're still my S.O.,"
His glass touched his lips and she almost felt like sobbing again before finishing what she had to say to him. A determination to finish her one-sided conversation flared inside her as if he'd handed her a shot of vodka that made its way into the pit of her stomach. She just had to say what she needed to say.
"And I want you to know that I'm deeply and unbelievably sorry."
He drained the entire glass before turning the chair to look at her. He wasn't surprised by the disheveled hair and the slightly bloodshot eyes, but he was shocked at his own concern upon seeing her shiver. It was like a trap, a mechanism that he'd triggered that made him feel something beyond responsibility for her.
"I know that you're sorry, but I'm not sure that I care."
The words were said with such finality that her breath hitched in her throat for a moment before something in her snapped. She felt as if he didn't understand her motives and her intentions no matter how hard she tried. There was just no winning with Agent Grant Ward.
"WHAT THE HELL WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!"
Her yelling was enough to wake up the entire plane, but no one came down to check on them after a minute. He figured that they were smart enough not to intervene in such business. All the same, his blank expression did not change and it exasperated her.
"Do you honestly think I wanted anybody to hate me? All I wanted to do was help Miles and I get that that was wrong, but you can't blame me for it."
She saw him turn red at her choice of words and half of her expected that he would finally start yelling back at him. The other half of her expected him to shoot her or hurt her or just about anything that would cause her physical pain. It was a lot better than what he was doing.
"Don't turn this around on me or on anyone else. You got on this plane and you hurt everyone."
And in that moment, she knew she'd lost him and every ounce of respect that she'd earned from him. She deserved his hate and his coldness and the blame that he was putting right in front of her. She made him sick and that hurt her most of all.
She racked her brain for things to say to him before she went to bed. Tomorrow would be another day and she was unsure if things would be better or worse between the two of them. She was hoping for the former, however unlikely it seemed to be.
"You're disgusted because I slept with Miles and you're hurt because I betrayed everyone on this plane. I understand and take full responsibility for all of that. But it still seems like you're blaming me for something that I'm not aware of."
"I fucking trusted you." She looked down at her feet at the sound of him swearing. "I helped you and I defended you. I tried to be a good S.O. because I actually thought that I could make you better. Never in my life have I wished this much to have been right."
He tore her upart, piece by piece, bit by bit, until only her heart and her mind were left. She tried to think of Simmons and what she had said about thinking logically, but he'd destroyed her. There was no heart and mind left to use for thinking logically.
"The point still stands, Ward. I came here to say I'm sorry."
"Prove it." He didn't think when he said it, it kind of just slipped out. He thought of the scotch and blamed it on that before getting up to walk away and get ready for bed. But something about the whole scene told him that walking away wouldn't be so easy.
Every step he took towards the doorway was a heavy struggle for both of them. He wanted her to say something just so they couldn't leave it on such a bitter note and she wanted to find something to do so that she could grant his wish.
And before she knew it, she'd grabbed his wrist and pulled him down. Her lips met his and it just felt different, but not in the cliché way that most of you are probably thinking. She thought of how he was different from Miles and how he made her feel like there was still some good left in the world. And maybe he was part of that good.
He pulled away from her far too quickly for either of their liking, but he knew such territory was toxic. He leaned her forehead against hers, eyes closed and breathing heavy as if they'd engaged in a rigorous workout.
"Consider that a promise," She told him in a voice no louder than a whisper. "That I'm going to be better and I'm going to pay you what I owe because you're never going to understand how thankful I actually am to you."
And like a ghost, she drifted away from him, with the feeling of her lips on his nothing but a promise that she intended to keep.