AN: Hi everyone, so this is a fanfiction I originally did as part of the TMI fandom under the name "The Hitchhiker."
I have started posting it on A03 and decided I would bring it over to FFN as well.
All song lyrics are in italics.
Disclaimer, I do now own Agents of Shield or the song. I also have no beta, so don't come at me for spelling and grammar.
Summary: Grant Ward is always on the move; otherwise, he'll be caught. He spends his days picking up hitchhikers that he robs and kills. On his last day of being in LA, he meets a tiny brunette that will change things for him. *Rated M* No graphics, but mentions of murder and sex. AH/AU/OOC
The Murderer
Part 1: The Hitchhiker (3.0K)
Grant's POV
I rub my face trying to ease the soreness of the punch I received last night while applying concealer onto the dark purple bruise. That nerd last night had more fight in him than I expected. I quickly get dressed, grab my to-go bag, slam the house's door, and fish my key out of my coat pocket before locking the door.
I climb into my red pickup truck, where my mind runs through the events of the previous night. Last night did not go as planned, and failure to bring Garrett what he wants will haunt me when he finds out. I pull at my dark hair as I run my fingers through it with frustration. I can not fail tonight; it is not an option for me. Garrett will have my head; I must deliver.
I start the truck and reverse out of the driveway; I look at the house that I have lived in for a couple of weeks; soon, I will no longer live here; staying too long will get me caught. Not having anyone who cares about me for so long allowed me to create a hard exterior, so continuously moving is rather easy since nothing is holding me here.
I drive along the highway for miles, and I come up empty. After 2 hours, I pull over and aggressively slam my arms against the steering wheel. This cannot be happening to me, not again. I manage to fish a cigarette out of my pocket and light it. This is ridiculous, it is the middle of summer, and it's hotter than hell in California. There is always someone walking towards LA trying to be the next Brett Dalton or Chole Bennet and attempting to catch a ride. Personally, finding women is a lot easier since I can flirt with them and get what I want without it being suspicious. Last night I only saw men, and when I picked up one named Leo, he didn't have enough stuff on him for me to pay Garrett.
Every victim of mine ends up the same, unfound. I am invisible; the authorities have no idea who I am. That's how good I am. I never use my real name, always moving, and the bodies aren't discovered until I am already gone. I have been in LA for 5 weeks, and none of my 15 victims have been found. I remember each life I take, and I remember little facts about each of them. Leo went to MIT until his parents stopped supporting him when he decided he wanted to be with his girlfriend in Los Angeles. Phil was an older man trying to find a place to start over. Piper ran away from her parents to try and hunt down an old girlfriend. I don't have remorse for any of them, it's survival of the fittest, and I got to survive Garrett, and they are the cost.
Garrett has been in my life since I was 15 years old when my parents died. During that time, I started robbing people, and I made the mistake of taking from him, and now he uses my skills of being unseen to his advantage.
I toss the cigarette out the window and flick my signal on and continue on my way. I left my house 8 hours ago, and I am still empty-handed, and I am only 4 hours away from LA now from all my circling back. It is almost sunset when I see a small figure in the distance. I push my foot harder on the accelerator.
As I get closer, I see dark curls flying in the wind that belongs to a tiny girl who has her thumb out.
I pull over beside her and unlock the door, and she climbs in.
"You know you are too young to be climbing into a stranger's car," I say, and she looks towards me, and my heart stops for the first time ever, and I find myself falling into her deep chocolate-coloured eyes.
"Same could be said for you; you do not know me. For all you know, I could be an axe murderer," she says while fasting her seatbelt. This makes me smiles; she has no clue the danger she is in.
"You are five foot nothing; I have nothing to worry about. What's your name?" I ask.
"I am Skye, and you are?"
"Ward, where are you heading?" I only ever give my victims my last name.
"LA, I am running away from a damaged home."
It is then I realize the bruises on her arms, and I don't comment on them and instead pull back onto the freeway.
As we drive, we chat, and I find out she was in foster care, which means no one will miss her. She always wanted to do something with her art but hasn't had time. After an hour, she begs me to pull over for food, and I obey. We stop at a diner called Tahiti's; it is a cute little 50's diner with red booths with a retro design. It seems like a weird style for a place that sounds like a beach.
It is in this moment, for the first time in my life, I feel I have a connection with someone, and she's a stranger who I am supposed to kill by the end of the night.
I tell her very vague things about my childhood and use the lies I've embedded into my mind to keep the conversation going. All of her questions are very general, and it is easy to follow along.
That is until she finally catches me off guard with, "So where's the girlfriend?" I freeze and remain still. "Or a boyfriend? I don't judge," she continues.
I glance at her, and my mouth feels so dry, and I manage to answer with, "definitely not gay, and I've never had one."
Her eyes go wide, and she leans forward, brushing her hands across mine, and a spark zaps us both.
"You are like 26, and you have never had a girlfriend? What have you been doing in LA?" she asks.
I shrug and reply with "23 actually, and I occupy my time with better things."
"So, you don't get laid? Like what hot 23-year-old is not hitting the clubs with his buddies picking up girls."
"See, that is different; sex is meaningless. I've had enough of it to know that as a fact. Relationships aren't for me."
"Have you tried one?" She asks.
"I did, once. In like the 5th grade."
She laughs and flashes me a bright smile and says, "grade 5 relationships don't count. You, my friend, need one."
Before I have a chance to reply, our food arrives, and we eat in silence until Skye finishes her meal and excuses herself to the restroom.
How did this tiny girl beat me in eating and ask for dessert? A couple of minutes pass, and I finish eating, and Skye hasn't returned. This is when regret sinks in, and I realize I messed up. She might've gotten away, and I'll be screwed for tomorrow. I jump from the booth and race to the back of the diner, and I hear yelling. I find myself running faster when I hear Skye's voice yell, "Let me go." I turn the corner and see a tall bearded man holding onto her arm, trying to pull her towards the closet.
I walk up to them, taking long strides and quickly grab his arm and push him towards the wall. "Never lay a hand on her again," I whisper into his ear.
And I let him go, and he stands up straight, but his punches are too slow, and I quickly move, and the drunk hit the wall and screams in agony. Then I finish him off with a knee to the head and knocking his soft head, and he goes unconscious and goes tumbling down.
I turn towards Skye, and she has a completely blank look on her face. I grab her hand, and she looks up to me and does the unexpected.
"Why did you help me? I had it under control," I am taken back.
"You did not have it under control. He was drunk, and he has like 150 pounds on you; he could have crushed you."
She shrugs and quietly whispers, "wouldn't be the first time." I shake my head. Sure, I wasn't expecting the girl I would kill to thank me, but I did not expect her to be mad at me.
"Fine, whatever, can we go now?" I ask, and she nods, and we walk up to the counter, and I pay the bill. Then together, we step out.
We climb into the truck in silence, and we stay like that with the radio on. Until I finally turn my head and look at Skye with her dark-coloured locks flying around everywhere with the window down. She is dressed in short button-up jean shorts, with a white t-shirt. From there, I glance at her arms, and I see the bruises that were there earlier, but I can also see new ones beginning to form. I am about to tell her when she cuts me off by turning the radio and starts dancing and singing.
I just wanna stay in the sun where I find
I know it's hard sometimes.
Pieces of peace in the sun's peace of mind
I know it's hard sometimes.
Yeah, I think about the end just way too much.
But it's fun to fantasize.
On my enemies who wouldn't wish who I was
But it's fun to fantasize.
Oh, oh, I'm falling, so I'm taking my time on my ride.
Oh, I'm falling, so I'm taking my time on my ride.
Taking my time on my ride
As she sings, she is dancing as best she can and drumming on the dash.
"I'd die for you," that's easy to say
We have a list of people that we would take.
A bullet for them, a bullet for you
A bullet for everybody in this room
But I don't seem to see many bullets coming through
See many bullets coming through
Metaphorically, I'm the man.
But literally, I don't know what I'd do.
"I'd live for you," and that's hard to do
Even harder to say when you know, it's not true.
Even harder to write when you know that tonight
There were people back home who tried talking to you.
But then you ignored them still.
All these questions they're for real.
Like, "Who would you live for?"
"Who would you die for?"
And "Would you ever kill?"
Oh, oh, I'm falling, so I'm taking my time on my ride.
Oh, I'm falling, so I'm taking my time on my ride.
Taking my time on my ride
This girl is amazing, she sings with so much heart, and she looks fantastic while doing it.
I've been thinking too much.
I've been thinking too much
I've been thinking too much
I've been thinking too much
(help me)
I've been thinking too much (I've been thinking too much)
I've been thinking too much (Help me)
I've been thinking too much (I've been thinking too much)
I've been thinking too much
Oh, oh, I'm falling, so I'm taking my time on my ride
Oh, I'm falling, so I'm taking my time
Taking my time on my ride
Oh, oh, I'm falling, so I'm taking my time on my ride
Oh, I'm falling, so I'm taking my time on my
I've been thinking too much
Help me
I've been thinking too much
Help me
I've been thinking too much (I've been thinking too much)
I've been thinking too much (help me)
I've been thinking too much (I've been thinking too much)
I've been thinking too much
Help me
This song hits me hard once she's done. Help me. Does she need me to help her? I cannot believe my mind is considering this, but I want to help her. She is such a free spirit, and I want all the good for her.
Before I can change my mind, I pull over, put the truck in park, lean over, and take her hand. Yet again, there is a spark, and I ask her, "Can I kiss you"? Before I can talk myself out of it.
I never get a reply from her, and instead, her lips attack mine, and her hands run through my hair, and she is driving me crazy. She tastes like cherries from the pie, and it is incredible. My hands grab her waist, pulling her as close to me as possible.
I could've done like this for the entirety, but eventually, we pull away, and we gasp for air.
"Wow," she says in between pants.
"Geez, wow, is right" I manage to get out between breaths. My heart is beating out of control.
I have yet to let her go, and she does not fight to get out of my arms. She smells almost like flowers, which is a little odd for someone who has been walking with no shelter for probably a couple of days.
"I don't make it a habit of kissing guys; I don't know." She says, and I laugh.
"Don't think we are strangers anymore."
"Now, what are we going to do?" She asks.
"Well, I don't feel like driving anymore. How about we stop at a motel for the night?"
Skye doesn't answer, only nods, and 10 minutes later, I pull over to the motel. Typically, this is how I usually do these things. Bring people to a hotel, never my home. And have them killed there since it is easier to remove my DNA than in my house.
We reach the motel, and we walk up to the desk; standing there is a tall blonde, my usual type.
"Welcome to the Playground. What can I help you folks with tonight?" The blonde asks, fluttering her eyelashes on me; usually, I'd find this attractive, but it's revolting right now.
"Uh, just a room with two beds, please."
"Oh, sorry, sugar, only rooms with one bed are available. Is that going to be a problem?" she asks, looking between us.
Before I have a chance to answer, Skye beats me to it and answers with "no problem at all," and she reaches into her bag, pulling out a credit card. I can't let that be traced back to her. I jump in front of her, pulling mine out and tapping the keypad first. I turn around all charming and smile at her. She glares back at me.
I take the keys from the hostess, and she slips me a paper with her name and number and gives me a wink before walking into the back.
"Wow, does that happen a lot?" Skye asks.
"Pretty much. I am used to it," and we walk towards the room together. I tap the key, and the door clicks, and we walk inside.
The place is simple, one king bed. Windows with a balcony, the bathroom is right by the door.
"I am going to shower," Skye says and rushes in. Now I am left with my demons.
Do I have to hurt her? I have never felt feelings about anyone and cared about their welfare. She gives me hope for change. She has such light in her, and I don't think I can extinguish it as I am battling myself—my cell rings. Only one person has this number.
I answer with, "yes, sir?"
"Have you got the money and passports?" Garrett asks.
"Yes, I do. I just had a little hiccup; I will have them to you tomorrow night."
"Excellent, we'll decide then where you'll go next. Be prepared in 24 hours for a flight."
I reply with "Yes, sir." and with that, Garrett hangs up.
Well, that blew things up. I don't have time to find someone else. That call sealed Skye's fate. I'll have to get rid of her in the morning before I leave, but I want to be human and experience these emotions until then.
After we are both showered, we climb into bed; and I can not sleep, and I have difficulty trying too. I don't know this wonderful girl will no longer be alive in 12 hours, and it will be all my fault.
"Ward? Are you still awake?" she whispers.
"Yes, I am," I mumble.
"Will you kiss me?" and it is like she knows it'll be the last time, and I don't think about it twice. I quickly roll on top of her smashing our lips together, and a moan escapes her lips, and her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me tightly in.
I pull at her hair and kiss along her neck, and she moans my name. Quickly, our clothes are gone. Then once we are done, we both fall into bliss. This girl will be the death of me.
After I dispose of her, I cry, for the first time ever, I never cried when my parents died, but when I had to kill this girl, I broke. I am a monster.
I walk to my truck, and on the way, I am hit by a car.
It is then I awake from my dream.
Only to be living another nightmare.
I wake up to Skye on top of me, pressing a knife into my throat, quickly drawing blood.
"I told you I might be a murderer, and I wasn't lying. You should not have underestimated me". This is when I realize I have been played.
AN: I know you all enjoyed that, and I hope you didn't see the ending coming.
Questions: What will happen next? Did you see the twist coming?
I'd never kill Skye/Daisy, she is superior. She also warned him several times.
Make sure to leave love if you want the next part. Otherwise, I can just leave it here, which is what I did with my TMI version for like 6 months.
Song was "Ride" by Twenty one pilots.
Stay Safe!