Ward hated public transport. It was dirty and there was always the possibility of his hand accidentally grazing the underside of the seat and touching some gum. He couldn't get any sleep, the seats were stiff and uncomfortable and if he tried leaning his head against the window the bumpiness would lead to a rude awakening and a headache. He didn't have to deal with people sitting too close, he always chose the aisle seat. It would leave him less vulnerable and in a better position to enter combat if needed. Which led him to his number one reason why he hated public transport: too many variables. Too many people, too easy to hide and seem inconspicuous a few aisles back. He knows because he's tailed people on buses and subways plenty of times.

There were simple ways to draw attention away from yourself, simplest was reading a book and looking at your phone.

There was one man on the bus reading a book, he turned the pages at a normal pace, mouthing the words as he went. Most agents didn't read when using a book as a cover, they'd simply stare at the page while keeping the target within their peripheral vision. He'd learnt to continue to read and pay complete attention to his targets, a skill that came in surprisingly useful. He was confident that this man wasn't sent to tail him, he paid no attention to Ward, he would've been able to tell if he was, and he was heavy set. If Ward wanted he could take him down without so much as a grunt of effort and walk away. If he was sent to tail him, he doesn't know what S.H.I.E.L.D. could be thinking. But he'd been careful after leaving Kara with them, making sure they didn't know how he got away.

He closed his eyes at the thought of Kara, at the thought of leaving her with S.H.I.E.L.D. He'd tried to put her back together, tried to be what she needed. It seemed like that's all he ever did, try to be what he thought other people wanted. He did it for Garrett, killed whoever Garrett told him to, took the fall when he needed to, dropped Fitz and Simmons out of the Bus despite everything in him screaming not to do it.

Then he tried to be what he thought Skye wanted him to be. He tried to help bring her family back together, he tried to reunite her with her father. He knew the guy was unstable, he knew that it wasn't safe for her, but he did it, just because he thought that's what she wanted.

The bullet scars on his side are conclusive proof that it clearly was not.

Then he tried to be what Kara needed. The loving boyfriend, the guy who would do anything for her. When he kissed her it was more for her than it was for him. She'd gotten him to safety after Skye had shot him and he felt that he owed her, he felt that he needed to help her find the person she used to be. But he did it the only way he knew how, hurting people, killing people. As he continued searching for the people who wronged her, searching for a way to bring her closure, he realized that he wasn't helping her find the person she was, but rather turning her into someone different, someone darker.

Someone like him.

It was difficult, he'd almost gone back because despite not sharing her feelings he did care about her. But S.H.I.E.L.D. would help her find the person she was, she was better off without him.

Everyone was.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't know the bus had stopped, he wouldn't have noticed if it weren't for the driver telling him this was the last stop and yelling for him to get off. He mentally chastised himself. He'd never been so distracted and despite his previous assessment of the situation he couldn't afford to be careless right now.

He got off the bus checking all around him, there was a man sitting on a park bench nearby who seemed half asleep. Regular physique, no visible muscle, likely not an agent. Probably a guy who just finished overtime at the office.

There were random people on the sidewalk, they'd walk past him and pay no attention minus a few women giving him a quick glance. He deemed none of them a threat. He was in the clear.

He breathed a sigh of relief and pulled out his phone. His lips tightened as he considered shoving it back in his pocket but he forced his thumbs to move as he typed in the number. His phone wasn't special, easily traceable actually, but he needed to make this phone call. If they took him in after then so be it.

"Hello?" Coulson answered after two rings and Ward did his best to respond immediately and hide any nervousness in his voice. He'd lied to S.H.I.E.L.D. agents right to their faces for over a decade and yet telling the truth to one man seemed damn near impossible.

"Sounds like you made it out okay," he started.

"I'm surprised you didn't join us," Coulson quipped. At least he didn't seem pissed, he didn't exactly seem pleased though. Good enough start.

"Thought it might be in my best interest to find an exit that wouldn't, oh, land me in a cell afterwards. Or, you know, my brain erased."

"Well, I'm glad you made it out alright."

Ward smiled slightly because it didn't sound like Coulson was trying to sound disingenuous but he knew the sentiment was false. Maybe Coulson wasn't hoping for Ward to die on the mission unlike the others, but he most definitely didn't care if he made it or not.

"Yeah, we both know that's not true Coulson."

"You wanna tell me what this call is really about?"

"I always knew the team wasn't gonna forgive me," he said. He didn't expect them to, he wanted them to, of course he wanted them to. But he couldn't expect them to do something like that. When they were in the briefing room on the bus he did the only thing he knew how to, deflect blame, make it seem like he's not as bad as they think he is by making everyone else seem like they're not that great either. It was stupid, narcissistic, idiotic and a bunch of other negative adjectives. "Some people just don't deserve forgiveness. But Kara… she does. That's why I've returned her to S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Ward, there's-"

"She was a good agent, a good person," he interrupted before Coulson could start arguing. He knew Coulson would take some convincing because he hadn't always been shown to have the best of intentions. He was someone Coulson only knew as selfish, suddenly doing something selfless. "Then Hydra ambushed her safehouse and took that from her, took everything. Whitehall broke her and I've tried to fix her. But… I'm just not the right man for it. There's not enough good left inside me. She deserves better."

He heard Coulson's breath on the other side of the line. He was most likely trying to accept Ward's word as the truth.

"I'll see what I can do," he said. It was tight, with little emotion, with no forgiveness. But it was the best response that Ward could've hoped for.

"I know you'll do the right thing," he said, hanging up before Coulson could respond.

He shoved the phone into his pocket and looked around. It was late, the guy on the bench was gone and there weren't anymore women out on the streets to ogle him. No cars passed. It was quiet. He was alone.

He was his own man now. He wasn't trying to please anyone, nobody was going to be telling him what to do. When he started walking he'd be following his own path, he'd end up wherever he decided he should. It was unfamiliar territory, it scared him. He was just left with one question. It was a question he'd asked many times but he'd always had someone to answer it for him, now he had to answer it himself.

Now what?