"Ward, what the hell!" Screams Skye when her former S.O.'s arms suddenly grab her from behind, catching her completely and undeniably off guard. He clutches her tightly against his chest, and judging by the way she couldn't breathe right, it is perhaps a little bit too tight. The fierceness of it was enough to force out a not so agent-cy squeak from her lips. She struggles to push him off, but the harder she tries to break free, the harder he clings onto her.

"Skye..." Ward's pained murmur brushes against her neck, making her shudder slightly. She hopes he did not notice how her body had involuntarily reacted to his sudden and clearly unexpected proximity. He is resting his forehead against her stiffened shoulders, breathing heavily as if he's drowning and she's the only buoy in the whole damn planet that could save him.

"What in the fucking earth do you think you're doing?" She hisses. She hates his guts, perhaps even hates it enough to make her want to shoot him a couple more rounds, but this, being forced to be this close to him again, evokes strange emotions in her that she really thought she'd dumped for good. It only makes her hate him more.

"I know you detest me... that you can't forgive me..." Ward tells her softly, reading her mind, and completely ignoring her clear objections regarding the situation he puts her in. His voice sounds too foreign to her ears-like it belongs to another person from another place, another time. Someone who would not hesitate jumping off a plane to save a friend. Someone who wouldn't betray his team.

Someone good.

But then again, that someone is dead. Come to think of it, perhaps he never really existed. He had them all fooled. He had her fooled. And she'll be damned if she ever lets him fool her again.

"You hated me enough to shoot me." He says. "To kill me."

She ignores the small twisty feeling in her gut at the way his voice cracked. He's a spy, a professional liar, for crying out loud. He can fake anything without trying. This gentleness she hears in his tone, this remorse, it's all for show. It's not real.

"It was a wake up call." He tells her as he continues on with his stupid charade of faux repentance. "And believe it or not, I want to thank you for it."

A corner of her heart aches beyond her control, and she finds it unfair that he could still affect her like this when it is quite obvious that for him, everything they've been through is worth absolutely nothing. That his time with the team was merely a job—a means to an end. She just could figure out why he is still seeking her out like this. Whatever bond, whatever understanding they had, it's all gone. If four bullets cannot make it any more obvious, then she absolutely has no clue what else could.

"You're right. I lied. I deceived all of you."

"Take your arms off me, Ward." She orders calmly even though deep inside her mind is in complete and utter chaos. He is doing this to what, to flaunt how brilliant he's been in fooling everyone into eating right on the palm of his hands like some oblivious little puppy, when all this time he's been nothing but motherfucking straight out of hell traitor? To stress how easy it has been for him to beguile her? To shove her colossal naivety back to her face? Her voice drops to a bare whisper yet the sharpness that lingers in it couldn't be any clearer. "Take your arms off me."

"I will," he murmurs to her ear in reply, though his arms are doing the exact opposite of what is expected of him. "I promise you I will, just—"

The mere sound of his voice makes her blood boil. God, she hates this man. What they had was something good, something she never thought she'd have, and he didn't not even bother thinking twice before destroying it. "I am not going to ask again, Ward."

As much as she hates to admit it, and despite how weak and pathetic it sounds, she hasn't fully moved on from mourning the loss that his betrayal has caused her. She doesn't trust easily but she trusted him.

She chose to trust him.

And look where it got her, kidnapped for the fourth time by the man she once considered as her friend. An almost more than a friend, even.

Almost. She couldn't be more thankful of the word. If not for it, she probably wouldn't have recovered from all of this.

However the events of the past few months have turned out, it doesn't change the fact that every time he hears his voice, it's not the traitor she first remembers. And she hates herself for it. "I cannot forgive you, Ward." She clenches her fist as she collects her thoughts, and mutters spitefully. "I don't think I even want to."

"I know, I know. I killed a lot of innocent people, ruined countless lives..." He swallows hard, "I broke your trust."

As he continues to say his piece, it takes a lot of her self control not to let a very nasty expletive from leaving her mouth. She couldn't fathom the reason why his sudden desire to explain himself necessitates him to trap her in his arms like this as well. "Broke my trust?" She chuckles humorlessly, struggling to free herself some more. "I wanna laugh so hard right now."

To her utter dismay, her words did nothing to dissuade him from talking. He burrows his forehead further into her shoulder, enough to make her squirm. "I am not expecting you to give me the forgiveness that I couldn't even give myself."

For that statement alone, she again feels the urge to slug him in the face. Why does she suddenly feel like she's the bad guy here? Like she's some heartless bitch incapable of forgiveness? Is that his intention all along?

"I did terrible things. I'm a lost cause."

She wants to glare at him for that, but she could barely move to turn her head and face him. Without much of a choice, she takes calming breath and mutters instead, "Gotta give it to you Ward, you can be a good actor when you need to be." This ruse, this elaborate play he's making, it has to be leading up to something. There's an angle here she's missing. This is Grant Ward, for crying out loud. He will always have an angle. "You need something, don't you?"

Her question is met by a prolonged silence. Skye prefers to think he's merely wracking his brain for some lame excuse for his despicable actions.

But then the man suddenly finds his tongue and speaks. "I do," His admission earns a loud scoff from her end, but he didn't let it deter him. He goes on, "But what I need-what I want most-it is nothing I deserve, and it is sure as hell not something you could give me." He pauses for a beat. Sighs in defeat. "It's not something I would ever allow you to give me."

"God, Ward does your bullshit ever run out?" She cuts him off to stop him from spewing more nonsense. What exactly is his end game here?

"Skye..."

"Fuck you, you traitor. Fuck you!" How dare he act as if he's the wounded party here, as if he suddenly has grown some sort of conscience? Is he deliberately trying to make her feel sorry for hating him? Well, that's just too bad. There are about a million things she did in the past that could make her feel bad, but despising him isn't one of them.

He mutters. "I hurt you."

She rolls her eyes dramatically and scoffs. After everything he's done, a few hurtful words are the too kind for what he actually deserves. "You think so highly of your own worth, Ward. You do not mean enough to me to hurt me."

She feels him nod behind her as he embraces her tighter. He captures her so securely with one of his huge arms draped across her chest while the other entraps both of her elbows against her sides. Despite tons of evasive techniques May has taught her, she couldn't get out of his hold. There is just so much a woman can do when a man twice her size suddenly thinks that squishing her like some snake's next meal is a good idea. She'd probably have better chances of escape if she is held in a chokehold instead. That, she knows what to do. That, she can maneuver her way out of. Not this. Nobody has trained her how to deal with enemies hugging her so tight to a point that her ribs are almost kissing her spine. In fact, this is one scenario that hasn't really crossed her mind, with it being ludicrous and all.

And to think she always prided herself of thinking outside the box.

Clearly, she had forgotten that there are no such things as insides or outsides of boxes when it comes to Grant Ward. She won't be blindsided like this otherwise.

"I am not here to argue with you."

"Yeah? Tell you what, if you don't let go right now, I will blast your arms off their sockets." She warns coldly, meaning every single word of it. She attempts to land an elbow to his gut, but she doubts he even felt her efforts. "Then I'll give you ample time to re-evaluate."

Ward did not seem even a little alarmed by the threat. Well, either that or he simply doesn't care. "There's nothing you can do that would make me want to hurt you. Not again."

Skye isn't sure if she that statement irritates her because she is fundamentally aggravated by everything that comes out of his mouth, or because she knows, deep down, that he is telling her the truth.

"I will never-"

"Stop." She cuts him off the second time. Is he really trying to make her regret what she did in Puerto Rico? Because he could still claim that he will never hurt her despite the fact that she didn't even bat an eye when she almost shoots him dead? Well, if he's fishing for an apology, she'll have to disappoint. "Just drop the act, Ward. You don't get to do that. Guilt-tripping me won't make me apologize for—"

"It's not about that." It's his turn to stop her from speaking further. His grip does not waver around her and it is already making Skye beyond uncomfortable. She wonders if this is his plan all along, seeking his revenge by slowly strangling her to death.

"The moment you shot me..." He mutters in a clipped voice that makes her think that every word coming out of his mouth is physically hurting him in some way. "and left me for dead—I knew I lost you. "

She can't believe she's hearing this. She can't believe she's hearing this now. After all he's done, he's still working that stupid angle.

"I'm done blaming other people for what I've done. Whatever wrongs I've made, they were my choices. I made them of my own free will. They're on me." The ground starts to shake minutely beneath his feet, but he still pushes on. "Words can't express how much I regret being who I am, who have I become."

"The first time you called me the enemy is when I finally realized that..." He trails off when the earth jerks him slightly backward. Everything around him is moving at such an alarming rate, and it is for all intents and purposes, a clear warning that he should already let go. But for some reason he couldn't make himself move away from her. "I let myself become the villain, and right now, even though I wanted to, there's no way for me to go back. It would be silly of me to hope for redemption when I'm already too far gone."

How long had they been in this position? Skye wonders. If her current, and not to mention, more upstanding S.O. would see her now, she'd probably be very disappointed. She should've thrown Ward over her shoulder at least four times by now. "That does not explain why you are still..." she tries to push him off her again, "...ugh, cutting the circulation off my entire torso." She says irately, trying to shove him off her once more. But she might as well be forcing her way out of two slabs of unyielding concrete by the way he refuses to budge. "Damn it, Ward! I'm done hearing your crap. Let me go!"

He continues to speak without giving her as much as an inch. He knows that the moment he lets her go, she'll stop listening to everything he has to say. And god knows how much unsaid words lodged between them. He's not yet ready to let go, and judging by the momentum his heart is going, he might never be. "I know that there's no longer a chance for us, and I also know that it is all because of what I've done and all of the wrong choices I've made, but please Skye..."

If he isn't the same traitorous murdering psychopath who had lied to her at every turn, she'd probably think he's being sincere. She lets out a frustrated sigh. "Please what? God, Ward, how many bullets do I have to put in you to make you understand?"

"You don't feel the same way, I get that. Of course, I get that." He whispers so sullenly, and for a split second Skye thinks she went a little overboard with the cruelty. It makes her feel a little uneasy, and she doesn't like it.

"But can you please..." He hugs her closer to his chest, a silent means of communicating what he's been asking for from her. "I am not lobbying for another chance, or seeking redemption. Hell, I am not even asking for forgiveness. All I wanted is—" He struggles to find the words to say but he does, eventually. "I know that this is too much for me to ask but, can you please... pretend... even for a second..." He says, his voice becoming way tighter than his grip, "...that you don't hate me?"

Her heart momentarily stops at the weight his words carried. He sounds so broken, and she does not have the heart to say anything in reply, knowing that whatever comes out of her mouth next certainly won't make him feel any better. So instead of releasing the sharp retort playing dangerously at the tip of her tongue, she chooses to purse her lip and stand stiffly still.

"I promise that I will let you go, but just... please..." Ward mumbles helplessly. "Give me this once. I need—" He falters as an anguished chuckle escapes his throat, "I need you to hear me say this."

She grits her teeth and sighs. He's going to apologize again, and she could feel that unwelcome apology coming, radiating from the way he's gripping her so securely, his fingers clawing desperately into her shirt.

She can't forgive him. Indeed, she can let most things roll off her back, that it would take more than a boatload of shit thrown at her to faze her, but his betrayal? Killing god knows how many people? Dropping Fitzsimmons in the ocean? Torturing Bobbi? Those aren't things anyone can easily forget. She may be raised by nuns, but that doesn't make her a saint.

"Please, Skye..."

But the thought of saying no to his pleas... it sends an excruciating ache inside her heart. How can she ever say no to that, to him, when he sounds so hollow and broken? Why is she letting him do this to her again? She should've learned her lesson by now.

"Please..." He murmurs.

God help her. She is going to regret this. She is really going to regret this.

She heaves a heavy breath, and gives in. "Fine," she finally says. "Talk."

He breathes slowly, harshly, behind her. He waited for this chance for so long, and now that it's actually here, his words choose to evade him.

"What?" It's a miracle she manages to stop herself from impatiently tapping her foot on the ground. She wishes he stopped because he changed his mind, perhaps deciding that it would be much better for both of them to let the subject drop altogether.

She isn't that lucky.

He breathes in deeply and makes up his mind about something. "You won't be hearing this again from me, so I need you to listen."

Well, what she needs is for this to be over. And maybe watch this bastard of a man to burst in flames so he'd stop talking altogether.

"I regret a lot of things." He began, enunciating every word with as if they carry varying levels of pain, each one gripping his throat even tighter than the last. "But if there's one thing that came out of all this that I don't regret—"

She tenses.

"If there's one thing that I will forever be thankful for..."

She can't let him go there. Not again. They've been through this. There's no need to bring it up again. She can deal with anything else. Just not that. He can apologize for the things he did all day, and she wouldn't complain. But god, she can't let him bring that up. "Wait, stop." She cuts him off before he could say something that would break her defences a little bit more. "Stop. Talking."

"It's you." He mumbles gently, and ignoring the plea veiled in her voice. He knows that she doesn't want to hear it again from him, but he has to say it. For his sanity, he has to say it. "It's always been you."

She's angry—no, she's livid at him for begging at her conscience, at her heart, like this. It is what he does best, and like a pathetic wimp she falls for it every single fucking time. He's fishing for a weakness, and she'll be damned if she ever lets him get to her again.

If only he stops sounding so broken and sincere.

God, she really hates this man.

"What I felt for you before, and what I am feeling right now, those are things that will never change." He breathes out, like some weight is finally lifting off his chest. "Please remember that."

She attempts to turn her head towards him, but her movement is met with sheer resistance so she remains trapped in his arms. "Damn it, Ward..." She fights off the tears that are threatening to fall. She's not going to cry over him. The Ward she once knew, and this Ward who's with her now, they're not the same person. They cannot be more different. This one doesn't deserve her tears.

But he doesn't seem like he's about to shut his mouth anytime soon.

She's right.

"I love you."

Her eyes fall close before she could stop them.

If only you were him.

"I love you, Skye." He repeats, as if there is a chance that she didn't hear him the first time. There was none.

This is her cue to say something snarky, to voice out a sarcastic comment that would push them back to level ground and out of this steep cliff they're freely falling into. But she can't. Her mouth has turned dry, and there's a huge lump in her throat that she could not dislodge. Her voice drops to a soft murmur as she speaks. "Let me go, Ward."

She feels his jaw momentarily tense as he manages as small nod. Hesitantly, he does exactly what he's told and releases her. But he doesn't take a single step back, and neither does she.

"What are you expecting me to say here?" She asks, still not daring to turn and look at him, fearing of what's waiting for her to see.

"I'm not expecting anything. I just needed you to hear it." He replies softly. "And I want you to believe it."

"Ward, please..." Stop it. Stop making things more difficult than they already are. "I don't need this right now."

"Do you believe me, Skye?" The desperation that laces his words is too obvious to miss.

She opens her mouth before closing it again. Runs a hand across her face. She couldn't tell when exactly her tears started falling, but they are, and she couldn't stop them. She not crying over him, no, her tears are not for that. She's crying over what could've been-what he could have been.

But she guesses that that is something that she will never know.

The lie is already dancing dangerously on the tip of her tongue, but somehow she cannot bring herself to say it. She knows she shouldn't but—

"Do you believe me?"

She tentatively shakes her head. The only type of lie she could muster.

"Skye, do you believe me?"

Of all the lies he'd told her, why does her heart have to believe that one? "Yes."

Her answer causes him to smile, perhaps the first genuine smile he's had for a while. "Then maybe it's all worth it."

It takes more than a moment for her to gather her thoughts and say them, but when she finally does, even she herself is stunned of what they turn out to be. "I really wished he was real."

"He was, Skye." He breathes, "He is."

"No, no he wasn't." It is all she could say. If she tries to give away anything more than that, she fears that she might not be able to keep it together for long. And that is something she could not afford. Not with him. Never with him.

He exhales tightly, painfully, like her answer hurts him way more than the four bullets that she'd used against him. "Well, if he was, I'm sure he'd say that those few months he's spent with you were the happiest of his life."

"But it wasn't enough, was it?"

He says nothing. He has nothing to say to that.

"You know that this doesn't change anything, right?" She says, tone much firmer and steadier this time. "Once I leave this place, I will go back to being your enemy. I will still be hunting you down."

He nods regretfully even though he knows she couldn't see. "I expect nothing less."

"And I will still hate your guts."

"I know you will."

"We might end up fighting each other."

He nods. "We might."

"I may have to take you down."

She earns a good hearty laugh from him at that. "I'd love to see you try, rookie."

"But maybe..." She sighs.

He tries to stop it, but hope rises in his heart quicker than his brain's ability to cope. He goes for an easy quip to mask it. "You won't be shooting me in the back next time?"

She chuckles, a more genuine one as it appears, "no promises but," she hesitates, "...maybe I could try not to actively despise you."

"That's..." The gratefulness in his tone does not go amiss. "That's way more than I could ever hope for," he says. And it indeed gives him hope. If she is still capable of hating him less than he deserve then maybe there is still hope for him after all. Maybe in time, he could learn how to forgive himself for all he's done. Maybe he can look at her again without feeling like his heart is being shattered into a million irreparable pieces, regretting all the chances he's wasted. Maybe in time, he could look back at this part of his past with a smile on his face. Maybe. "Thank you."

She chuckles at that. "For what? For the four bullets I gave you?"

She feels his weight shift from one foot to another. "For everything."

A small nod is all she gives him. She takes a couple of steps forward. "And Ward," she says, stopping for a moment when a thought hits her, "for what it's worth, I don't think that you're a lost cause."

He smiles again. It feels nice. "You're a good person, Skye." He tells her. "I hope you know that"

"But apparently not good enough to forgive you just yet."

"You have every right not to." He says. "I will never hold that against you."

She nods as she starts walking again, further increasing the great expanse that separates them. "By the way, I go by Daisy now. You might want to get used to it."

"I'll try."

As soon as she could breathe normally once more, she hears him call out. She halts.

"Wait, Sk-D-Daisy..." He hesitates. The way her new name rolls off his tongue feels strange, but he knows he'll eventually get used to it. "I am really happy you finally found your place-where you belong."

She manages a tight smile at that. "Me, too." She replies. "I just wish I could say the same for you."

He looks away. "I think I'm getting there."

She squares her shoulders, but still keeps her back turned. It's better this way. For both of them. "Goodbye, Grant."

He feels much lighter now. Like the weight of the world has been finally lifted off his chest. A chapter in his book that is finally being closed. He looks up, smiling at the disappearing shade of blue above the clouds. The sun is setting, yet the horizon in front of him slowly becomes brighter and brighter. The irony in all of it is not lost to him.

He smiles and mumbles softly to the empty space in front of him, "Goodbye, Skye."