I Know Hell Follows Me
In the end, they left before dawn, just a handful of hours after Ward had returned to the cabin. Their belongings had been packed up and waited in a neat mound by the door, whilst every single trace of their existence at the safe house had been scrubbed clean. Fitz was certain that not so much as a hair fibre remained after the thorough going over he had given the place, whilst Jemma and Skye had slept in a heap on the couch, where they had crashed after hacking into the lab to download the software for the Motherboard.
The drive had been largely silent until sunrise on account of the fact that FitzSimmons and Skye had continued to slumber in their seats, whilst Ward had resolved to put as much distance between them and the cabin as possible. When Skye finally started to come round, roused by the rays of sunlight beginning to permeate the windscreen, they were well over a hundred and fifty miles away from the Catskills.
"Do you want me to take over for a while?" Skye inquired, stifling a yawn with one hand as she sat up straighter in her seat. She shot a glance at Ward, whose eyes were trained on the horizon, although he directed attention to the rear view mirror every so often to ensure they weren't being followed.
"First thing you've said to me since I got back," Ward replied, his eyes still affixed on the road ahead. He diverted his gaze for only a moment and Skye fidgeted in her seat, yanking at the seatbelt, her expression immediately souring.
"So..." Grant prompted, casting a glance over the seat to ensure that their friends were still asleep - although Fitz's snores were enough reassurance that the Scot was indeed happily slumbering.
Skye sighed, staring out of the side window into the fading dusk that surrounded them. Pursing her lips, she cast a decidedly testy glance in his direction. Her temper and her need for an explanation finally got the better of her, and she turned in her seat to face him, pausing as a car's headlights briefly lit up the road ahead as it passed them.
"So... You're gone for four hours and come back smelling of... I'd like to say cheap perfume, but it smells kind of expensive to me... Makes a girl think, Ward." She watched as he blinked repeatedly, a sure sign that he was caught off-guard by her reply.
But instead of protesting his innocence, he shot her a sideways look that conveyed little as he pressed, "What exactly are you accusing me of, Skye?"
"I…" Skye faltered, suddenly silent and shaking her head. Quietly, hesitantly, she finished, "You don't need me to spell it out for you, Grant."
Ward said nothing, his gaze locked straight ahead and his jaw tensed in a demonstration of his annoyance. He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel, and he sucked a deep breath in through his nose in an effort to dispel his mounting anger. He had never been anything but loyal to Skye in a physical sense and, although he could understand her suspicion given that he had kept the nature of his contact a secret, he was disappointed that she had immediately jumped to the conclusion that he had cheated on her.
"You just going to stare at the highway?" Skye finally probed, leaning back against her door as she watched Ward, who pursed his lips in response.
"I'm not entirely sure what you want me to say," Ward retorted, tone laced with venom, "you've already made up your mind. I'm a liar and a cheat."
Leaning her head against the cool window, she stared down at her lap, determined that she wasn't about to shed a tear. She was a big girl and her days of bawling during a disagreement should be long gone.
"You're a Specialist, Ward... You get information... whatever it takes. I get that," she said, hugging her arms around herself. The huff of laughter he expelled caught her off-guard, and she glared at him venomously.
"Not like that..." he scoffed, shaking his head as though the idea was absurd.
"Right," Skye replied in a bitter tone that conveyed she didn't believe a word. She flung back at him, "So that thing with May?"
Shaking his head in abject anger, Ward once again checked on their back seat passengers before he snapped, "I thought I'd proven myself to you, I figured we were past that. But maybe what I did is too much for you to forgive... I..."
He floundered, licking his lips nervously as he tried desperately not to look at his sullen girlfriend. Yet from his peripheral vision, he couldn't help but intercept the expression on her face, and immediately his furious reply stilled on his lips. Releasing a pained sigh, he directed, "Take my cellphone... 415-555-2439."
"What?" Skye frowned, wiping at an errant tear that had managed to escape her tired eyes despite her resolve. The car drew to a halt, and Ward checked the rear view to ensure they were alone on the abandoned stretch of road as they pulled into a rest stop.
"Dial the number," he instructed, eyes now focused intently on her, and he found himself both strangely annoyed and saddened by the tears that welled in her eyes. His voice softening, he added, "Skye... please... Just do as I ask."
Huffing a petulant sigh, Skye grabbed the cell from Ward's hand and stabbed the button, raising it to her ear whilst never once removing her gaze from his face. Every ring set her nerves just a little bit more on edge and Skye's knee began to bounce frantically as she waited for the call to be picked up.
"This better be good," a no-nonsense female voice declared after a click, and Skye almost dropped the cell in her shock. "What do you want, asshole?"
Skye swallowed hard, staring askance at Grant, who was unable to prevent the faintest trace of a smirk twitching at his lips. He ought to have known that he could rely on Natasha never to let him down. Her disdain for him was balanced only by her friendly affection for him, and there was something distinctly familial about their relationship; almost like the older sibling he had often wished he had instead of Christian.
"He… hello?" Skye said uncertainly, swallowing hard in a demonstration of her nervousness.
"Not the asshole I was expecting," the woman observed, sounding mildly amused by the turn of events, and not at all like a mistress that had just been rumbled.
"Who is this?" Skye demanded, suddenly finding her voice as she bristled in irritation at the jibe.
"Honey, you called me," the woman replied, actually chuckling, which only succeeded in adding insult to injury in Skye's book. "I think I should really be the one asking that question, but, I'm going to take an educated guess and say I'm talking to Skye, and you're snooping through your boyfriend's phone on account of his questionable, octopus affiliated past. How did I do?"
The seconds ticked by, and Skye merely gaped as she processed just why the voice on the other end of the line sounded so familiar.
She found herself met with a bored sigh, after which the woman intoned, "Wow... Ward's not dating you for your conversational skills. Use your words, Skye."
"Be nice, Romanoff!" Ward cautioned, watching the expression on Skye's expression change from suspicion and hurt to awe, before settling swiftly on 'embarrassment'.
"Romanoff? Natasha Romanoff?" Skye repeated, eyes wide as she stared up at her boyfriend, "your 'old friend' is Black Widow?!"
"God, can we not call me that?!" Romanoff sighed in boredom, and Ward smirked as he picked up the indignant undertone to her voice.
"I... I had no idea, I... I'm sorry to bother you?" Skye winced, her hand flying to her forehead as though she had been physically struck by her own stupidity.
"Look, I get it, okay?!" Natasha replied, this time her tone was lighter and slightly more reassuring, "Ward has a... questionable history. But the bastard's just trying to help you. That's all. Hard as it is for me to believe, he has friends now, and... have you been through his wallet recently? Cos you're in it. That tells me you're pretty special to him..."
Ward shook his head, as if not quite believing what he was hearing from the infamous spy. "You went through my wallet?"
"You have a photograph of me?" Skye asked softly, feeling the traces of a smile tug at her lips as she realised that was perhaps the first time anybody had ever done anything of that nature. She had never had boastful parents carrying an armful of photographs to force onto unsuspecting friends and colleagues, and no boyfriend had ever really cared deeply enough to carry her image with him.
"Okay, so if we're done with the suspicion, I'm going to leave you two kids to deal with that revelation and maybe go look into stopping S.H.I.E.L.D. from committing an Inhuman genocide," Natasha drawled lazily, and Skye winced again as she was struck by just how ridiculous she had been, especially given the situation at hand.
"Ward, try to stick to the plan," Romanoff commanded, before adding cheerily, "nice to speak to you, Skye. Let's not do this again too soon, though, 'kay?! Great."
There was a loud click and the line went dead, leaving Skye sitting in stunned silence whilst Ward only stared at her, waiting for her to regain her senses.
"You're besties with the freaking Black Widow and you never told me?" she accused, her voice rising an octave and succeeding in drawing a louder than usual snort from Fitz.
Frowning in distaste at the word, Ward shook his head as he defended himself, "Hardly 'besties'. Acquaintances, maybe. Contacts, yeah, I guess. I figured given her relationship with Fury, she'd be eager to know just what's going down in S.H.I.E.L.D. now courtesy of Coulson and his regime."
"But wait," Skye interjected, dropping her voice to a whisper as though she feared she may be overheard by someone of consequence, "aren't the Avengers like, on the run right now?"
"Technically, yes, aside from Stark," Grant replied, slipping his cell back into his jacket pocket.
"So... What exactly is the plan? I mean, can you tell me?" Skye fished, feeling her cheeks blush under his scrutiny, not to mention the sense of ridiculousness she was experiencing for having doubted him.
Contemplating the information he held for a moment, Ward leaned in close, his breath catching the shell of her ear as he whispered the plans he and Natasha had drawn up together.
Skye's eyes widened, and she stared up at him in disbelief, "Holy... shit. Are you serious? Like... Really?"
Ward smiled, a cautious sense of optimism contained in the gesture, "Really."
Skye digested the details of the plan for a moment, shaking her head from side to side as she pondered on how fantastical it all sounded. "I... I mean, that's... "
Suddenly realising that Ward had been doing the very opposite of betraying her - and had quite possibly put in place a plan that would save them all - not to mention their entire race, Skye was overcome with guilt so rapidly that it almost took her breath away. In the past year, Grant hadn't given her so much as a moment's cause to doubt him, and his devotion had been aptly displayed in every thought, word and deed that involved her.
"Grant?" she began, tentatively reaching out and curling her fingers around his much larger hand, "I'm sorry."
Ward glanced at her before returning his attention to throwing the car back into drive, his silence somewhat telling as to how he had received her apology.
"I don't want to fight with you, Skye," he began, shaking his head as he added, "especially not now."
"I get it," Skye interjected, looking utterly crestfallen as she breathed, "I hurt you."
"It's not that I don't understand," Ward explained, smoothing his thumb over the back of Skye's hand, which lingered on his knee. "It's just that I thought we'd moved past all of that, and that you knew that I'd rather die now than betray you again. I couldn't stand to be responsible for destroying what we have."
Turning her hand over to enclose his fingers around hers, Skye coerced him into meeting her gaze.
"I trust you with my life, Grant... " gesturing towards the back seat, she added, "and so do they."
Ward nodded, happy to have made progress in winning their trust back, but also crestfallen that Skye still doubted him.
"How long you think it'll be before you trust me with your heart?"
Her thumb circled the back of his hand as she clutched it tightly, and she added, "I do. You know I do. I just... I'm tired, and I'm angry, and... honestly? I'm scared. I was being stupid, I know that now. I'm sorry."
His expression softened and he noted the haunted, terrified look in her eyes, and for a moment he was transported back to another time and another place that seemed an eternity ago.
"I know I hurt you, Skye, and I know I don't deserve you... But you have to know... the only reason I'm here is you. You're what I'm fighting for."
Skye leaned across the gear stick in order to rest her head against Grant's shoulder, hardly caring that the seatbelt was digging uncomfortably into her hip.
"I promise to get my head out of my ass," Skye vowed, "how's that?"
Chuckling, Ward nodded and quickly dropped a kiss against the crown of Skye's head.
"Sounds like an excellent plan," Ward replied, knowing that he could for the moment get away with the joking quip, even extracting a small smile from his girlfriend.
"Speaking of excellent plans," she murmured, another glance first directed over her shoulder at FitzSimmons to ensure that they were still sleeping, oblivious to everything but the content of their dreams, "I think we should keep the deal with Romanoff between ourselves. If she can't pull this off then I don't want to give Fitz and Jemma false hope. They need to know what they're getting into here, and that… well, that there's a good chance we could lose."
Ward nodded, peering in the rear view at the sleeping scientists before he regarded his girlfriend again, "That's why I didn't tell you. I didn't want to get your hopes up. Natasha's... unpredictable at the best of times."
Rubbing her forehead wearily, Skye groaned, "Oh my God, she must think I'm insane. I'm one of those girlfriends that goes all creepy stalker when her guy so much as sneezes. Remind me next time I see her to try to at least be kind of cool?!"
Ward chuckled, blinking in surprise as suddenly he found Skye's lips pressed to his cheek, and she pressed into his side as far as her seatbelt would allow.
Biting back a smirk, he added playfully, "I love you even when you're a total flake... always have."
"Hey!" Skye protested, punching him lightly on the arm and smiling against his lips as he silenced her indignant huff with a kiss. From the back seat, an audible groan rose over their laughter and Fitz suddenly lunged forward in his seat, jolted from slumber.
"I'm gonna be sick!" he yelped in a rush.
"What? Geez, calm down Drama Queen, there wasn't even any tongue!" Skye protested, watching as the Scot slapped a hand over his mouth.
Simmons shot up in her seat, seemingly roused by the forward momentum of Fitz, who she had been propped up against.
"No, no, no," she stammered, hurriedly moving to wind down the window of the car, taking a moment to marvel at the fact that Ward had swiped a car old enough not to have electric windows, "he means he's actually going to be sick. He's never been a good traveller."
"We lived on a freakin' plane," Skye protested, arching a brow at Fitz, who had turned a significant shade of green.
"There's a rest stop in a half mile, I can pull over there," Ward offered, clearly concerned that Fitz was poised to empty the content of his stomach over the back of his head.
Jemma nodded and reached across to rub Fitz's back in comfort, succeeding only in drawing a pained moan from the man.
"Can you like, stick your head out of the window or something?" Skye inquired, her nose wrinkling in evident disgust.
His hands clamped over his mouth, Fitz's eyes were wide as he shook his head vigorously from side to side. "Mm... Mmm-uhh."
"What? What is that?" Skye's eyes darted furiously between the two scientists as Ward kept a watch through the mirror. "Jemma? What's he saying?"
As if he'd been speaking as clearly as they were, Simmons explained with a frown, "He'll try his best to hold on, but he'd be incredibly grateful if we could stop as soon as is humanly possible."
Fitz breathed a relieved sigh and nodded his head.
"You got all that out of his mumbling?" Skye peered askance at Jemma, who shrugged by way of explanation.
"We're lab partners," Jemma said haughtily, searching through her bag for a plastic grocery bag or some other object that could be used as a makeshift vomit receptacle.
"Uh-huh. Okay," Skye drawled, shooting Ward a similarly confused look as he took the next turn off the highway.
"There's some Dramamine in the black bag. We can't keep stopping if we don't want them to track us," Ward directed, raising both eyebrows pointedly at Fitz, who bobbed his head in ready agreement. Skye was certain he would have done his best to look chagrined if it wasn't for the decidedly green hue of his skin.
Skye leaned back in her seat, beginning to feel the anxiety building in her gut as Ward swerved the car into the vacant gas station lot. Fitz all but tumbled out onto the tarmac, managing to stumble mere feet before he began emptying the contents of his stomach onto the ground. Simmons approached him gingerly from behind, patting his back as he heaved and gagged, whilst Ward unbuckled his safety belt.
"I'll make a quick supply run inside. Have them back in the car in ten," Ward directed, pressing a kiss to Skye's forehead before he exited the car and jogged to the store, leaving Skye staring after him in concern.
As he walked, Grant fished a baseball cap out of the back pocket of his jeans and tugged it down over his head, allowing the peak to cast a shadow over his features. He slid sunglasses onto the bridge of his nose and turned the collar of his polo shirt upwards, attempting to obscure as much of his skin from view as was possible. A quick glance in the store window showed an inconspicuous figure reflected back at him, and Grant pushed open the door satisfied that he was unrecognisable.
Staring out of the car window at the vomiting scientist, Skye wrinkled her nose and watched in evident disgust as Fitz once again decorated the ground with this stomach contents, and she turned away as she felt her own stomach roll in sympathy.
"Gross," she muttered, plucking the bottle of water from the cup holder in the central island between the front seats and took a large glug to settle her own building nausea. She watched the store carefully, noting how Ward was already at the register, an armful of supplies in hand.
"Come on, guys," she coaxed aloud, watching with some relief as Fitz staggered back towards the car, his features almost ashen. Jemma clung onto his arm, doing her best to direct him.
"I'm fine, I'm fine. I'll be alright in a sec," he could be heard assuring his concerned and decidedly overbearing colleague. "Just need a little air, that's all."
Noting that Grant was striding towards the car, a brown paper bag on his hip, Skye opened the passenger door and whistled pointedly.
"Alright guys, let's go," she began, clapping her hands as if she were a little league coach trying to hustle her players.
Fitz groaned but obediently bundled back into the car alongside Simmons, who was patting the back of his hand sympathetically. Skye clipped her belt back into place in preparation, her unease waning just a touch as Grant neared the car.
"Here," Simmons said softly, pressing a couple of motion sickness pills into Fitz's clammy hand and shooting him a smile. He dry swallowed them and then sagged back against the seat, his eyes flickering closed as he puffed out a sigh. Tentatively, Jemma reached out and stroked a lock of hair from Fitz's forehead, then began to soothingly brush her thumb over his temple when he made no move to resist her.
Ward slid into the car and handed the grocery bag straight off to Skye, who noted his darkened expression immediately.
"What's wrong?" she pressed, her voice hitching as she demanded, "are we made?"
Sighing heavily as he gunned the engine, Ward shook his head.
"There's a storm coming. The roads up ahead are already flooded," he relayed, having been privy to the newscaster's announcements on the TV behind the register.
"So what do we do?" Skye asked, the faintest traces of panic sparking in her eyes.
"There's a trailer park about twenty miles from here, we're gonna have to detour a little, but we can't risk the hotel chains. Too many cameras, too many people."
Leaning her head in her hand, her arm resting on the door, Skye blew out an unsteady breath. She managed to flash a brief smile at Ward, who reached out and clasped her free hand in his, their fingers entwining together as their palms kissed.
"How's Fitz doing?" Ward asked, casting a glance backwards and noting the decidedly wan complexion of the Scot - who was perhaps even paler than usual.
"He's been better," Skye remarked wryly, watching as Simmons dutifully helped him take sips from a large bottle of water. Skye smirked pointedly at Grant, and he deflected her obvious enjoyment and scheming with an arch of his brow.
"Baby, don't. Don't meddle," he warned quietly, chuckling despite himself as Skye grinned and feigned an expression of innocence that almost instantly gave her away.
"I'm not!" she protested, laughing at his disbelieving expression, "I'm not, I swear! Besides, I don't think I'll have to. It looks like they're pretty cosy back there, despite the fact his breath probably smells like vomit."
"They'll get there in their own time, just like we did," Ward murmured quietly so as to prevent Simmons from overhearing him.
Skye only smiled in response and returned to watching the unwitting scientists with interest through the rear view mirror.
x-x-x
Agent Morse careered around the corner and straight into Coulson's office, clutching a set of printouts tightly in one hand as though her life depended on it. She didn't wait for the director to acknowledge her presence, instead stepped forward and slammed the bundle of papers onto his desk, a predatory gleam in her eyes.
"They've been spotted. Three hours ago at a gas station in Pennsylvania," she breathed, unable to thwart her own pleased smile, "we have a positive ID on FitzSimmons."
"Three hours ago?" Coulson repeated, his expression souring as he contemplated the likelihood that his missing agents would still be lingering in the same area. "Ward's not an idiot, Morse. They'll be long gone."
Grant Ward was no stranger to the tactics involved with staying off radar and, whilst it appeared that some of his team had made a momentary slip up, Coulson was confident that he would not run the risk of remaining in the same place for an extended period of time. The best they could do was hope to follow a pattern of stolen and recovered vehicles that appeared to lead to a particular location.
The smirk that twitched at Bobbi's lips instantly captured Coulson's attention, and he folded his arms across his chest as he regarded her with evident interest.
"And... What aren't you telling me?"
Morse's smirk evolved into a smile, and she turned the computer screen so Coulson could better view the image before she gestured to the concentric circles spread over the map before them.
"That there? That's a massive storm front, blew in tonight, not expected to leave until at least 5 am. That gives us..." she glanced at her watch, "almost 8 hours... they can't have gone far, Coulson, not in that weather."
Inhaling slowly, Coulson's lips formed a thin line as he debated their next move.
"Alright, have a team ready to go at my command. Tell May I want her to lead this one. There's no way she'll let Ward slip through our fingers again," he turned on his heel to leave, halting briefly as he added, "and Morse? I want FitzSimmons and Daisy alive."
"Coulson..." Bobbi began, planting her hands on her hips as she prepared to argue the case for using lethal force - something she had every intention of doing with or without Coulson's approval. "Daisy's dangerous, you know that. Ward's screwed with her head, and she's just as much a threat as he is now."
Coulson was already striding out of the room as he replied over his shoulder, "It's not up for negotiation, that's an order, Agent Morse!"
Releasing a sigh that aptly displayed her frustration, Bobbi pursed her lips as she stared at the image on the screen. Keeping her voice low so nobody else could overhear, she offered a somewhat delayed reply.
"We'll see about that."