/update at the end/

Grant looked over at Hunter and raised an eyebrow, knowing he could overpower the Brit easily and probably silently. The idea of disarming and taking the man's weapon was delicious to him, it swirled around his head like a disease. The thought wouldn't leave him alone.

He planned it out in his head, step by step until he'd already stood without even realising.

Lance Hunter raised an eyebrow right back at him, silently noting the bandages wrapped around the man's arms and cleverly deciding to not mention anything about it. He did however take a step towards the door in case he needed back up.

And it turns out that he did.

Ward's mind had blanked on him the moment he'd seen the gun and in seconds he was on the other man, one tiny yelp coming from Lance's mouth before Ward clamped his hand over his lips and nose, squeezing tightly.

He waited for the body in his arms to become heavy and for the mans eyes to roll back into his head before he unceremoniously dumped the man on the floor.

There had been no chance of him fighting back, Ward had been too strong and too determined for even someone like May to have stopped him getting that gun.

He wanted what he wanted and his mind was on autopilot; he would get what he wanted no matter the cost to himself or to others, even someone he considered a friend like Hunter.

He and Hunter went far back and still Grant didn't get it into his mind that what he was doing was wrong. He just wanted that gun and that was what was important.

But Bobbi had Hunter senses and when she heard the shuffling and the tiniest hint of a yelp, she knew something was wrong. She drew her batons and silenced May and Coulson before kicking the door open to find a horrific looking sight.

A blue lipped and unconscious Hunter lay dumped on the floor at a manic Ward's feet.

Ward had been so heavy handed and desperate that he had choked Hunter out for far longer than he should have.

Bobbi immediately was in the room and next to her boyfriend/lover/ex-husband. "Hunter? Lance?!" She slapped his face and knelt to lower her ear to his chest. "He's not breathing. Oh gods, he's not breathing. Ward what the-" She looked up then to find what May and Coulson had been staring stricken at.

Grant Ward held a gun to his temple, the barrel pinching his skin. There was a sick grating noise as he turned the safety off.

His eyes, empty, fluttered shut.

Before almost anyone could react, there was an explosion of the trigger being pulled and the shot rang out throughout the room.

.

.

.

Coulson had moved, to do God knows what when he heard the shot. He opened his eyes and found Ward on the floor and he thought his agent was dead.

His stomach lurched and he felt like he might be sick. He didn't do so good with emotions or showing them with anyone but with this little family, with Skye, May, FitzSimmons, Hunter, Bobbi and Grant, Natasha and Clint, he'd been learning.

He'd been showing emotions and feelings.

Now he wished he never had. This hurt too much. This was too painful.

But Grant was moving and May was by the side of him and it looked like she had knocked the gun out of his hand and now had him pinned to the floor with a knee in his back.

Once seeing that Ward was restrained and miraculously not hurt, Bobbi looked down at Hunter and rolled the man fully onto his back.

The blonde felt ill.

She pressed her hands to his chest and began to pump down, counting out loud. "One, two, three, four, one, two..." she whispered, her voice quivering.

She couldn't believe Ward had done it and as angry, hurt and upset he was…Hunter was and always would be the most important person in her life.

And she was not giving up on him.

"Please Hunter. Don't do this, you jackass, you don't get to leave me like this." She leaned down to press her lips to his, breathing in and watching his chest rise once, twice, three times. Then an agonising coughing and a gasp of relief from the blonde.

Bobbi pulled him to her chest in a rare show of affection for the Brit, one hand tangled in his hair and a few tears in her bright eyes.

"I'm…okay. I'm okay." He said roughly, coughing and hacking into his hand.

Fucking Ward.

Speaking of…

Coulson scrambled over to Ward who was seemingly catatonic now and took the gun, emptying it and breaking open all the shells so there was no way that they could be used. Behind him he could hear a soft sob.

Phil didn't know what to do anymore. Everything was broken and twisted and he didn't think he could fix this one.

He helped May with Ward, that was one thing he could do. He helped with tying his hands and sitting him on the bed.

Coulson was a foot away when out of the corner of his eye, he saw his comrade and partner pitch forward onto her knees and he frowned in confusion until he saw the bloody hole at her collarbone and her falling backwards onto the white floor, red starting to spread underneath her.

The gun had gone off, but the bullet hadn't its target. It had hit Melinda and now she was bleeding out in front of him.