Chapter 7: nothing lasts forever.
Ward
I pull the first edition of The Woman in White slightly forward on the shelf and we hear a click. It's just me and Skye in a massive, empty library with newly disabled security cameras. The musty old volume makes a creaky noise as it sets off some kind of hidden mechanism that clicks tellingly.
"That's it," Skye declares as the floor beneath our feet starts to shift and opens before us to reveal a steep staircase leading below ground. Far below ground. From her excited look at this, I know she's just barely suppressing the full burst of her zest for this cloak and dagger stuff. It feels oddly like how it was between us when I first started training her for SHIELD, and frankly, I'm not sure I want to go back to being the straight man to Skye the impulsive daredevil. The last time I played that part, she still ended up being shot nearly to death because I can't always save her. I believe without a doubt that she can accomplish anything she puts her mind to, but that basic instinct to protect her eats away at me all the same.
We make our way down a spiraling path that lets us off at the edge of a large, murky body of water. Skye immediately sets her bag down and starts to assemble her diving gear, unzipping her hoodie to reveal the skintight wetsuit that might be the only silver lining of this whole crazy night.
"I can hear you worrying," She informs me curtly despite my silence, stepping forward to kiss me all too briefly. "I'm gonna be fine. I'll get the book and be back in five minutes. You just be ready to handle what comes next."
"Right," I nod dutifully, but then my arm shoots out and grabs hers and her eyes flash up to me, questioning. "Five minutes, Skye," I remind her, the nervous concern in my voice all too obvious. "I'm counting on you." This earns me another kiss and a nod of understanding at the deepest meaning of my words. Yeah, I'm counting on Skye. Losing her would destroy whatever the hell's even left of me. I'm holding onto her for all I'm worth, standing there letting her go.
She takes off and disappears into the black looking water so that she can pass through a narrow chamber and retrieve the book. I spend the time pacing back and forth, feeling useless and restless, unable to have any influence over whether or not she gets through this part okay. She needed me to trust her, and that's all there is to it.
I let out a huge breath of relief when Skye resurfaces a couple of minutes early, brandishing the book, which is safety encased in a waterproof sleeve.
"Wow," I congratulate her when she emerges from the water.
"That's right, wow," Skye grins, handing me the book as she unzips her wet suit and shrugs on the spare set of clothes she's pulled from her bag. "Ready for the fire?"
"No," I reply with a laugh, helping her repack her gear.
That's about the time that we hear someone clapping behind us, and I turn around to see Jeffries standing there with an almost unfathomably smug expression. He's dropped the dapper gentleman look and sports all black attire, his gunmetal grey hair slicked back. He's confidently holding a gun aimed squarely at yours truly.
"I take it you're not here for moral support," I stall, praying this fool has some good villain monologuing in him so I can use the time thinking of a way to get the upper hand.
"How very astute," Jeffries replies, pleased to death with himself. Unfortunately, he doesn't feel the need to fill us in on his dastardly plans. "Come with me, my dear," he says, taking Skye firmly by the arm and urging her forward with the gun to her back.
"Garrett's going to be pissed when he finds out you betrayed us," I call after them.
"John Garrett is dead, and you will be too, soon enough. You two are not Hydra; you are idiots deluding yourself there's still a SHIELD to be agents of." Jeffries turns back and smirks, adding, "At least she's special. You, Ward, have nothing to recommend yourself to anyone. You're just a liar and a fake wherever you go. And you're not even good at that. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take this book and this young lady and find out just how special she really is."
Skye steps on his foot hard, but Jeffries has no reaction except to tighten his grip on her. Despite Jeffries' clear implication that I ought to hang back if I'd like to live, I trail them at a slight distance, determined to overpower him once I get my moment. As we travel back towards the staircase, a wall of fire erupts in front of the way up and out. This has been activated by our removal of the book. Me and Skye were going to get past the flames using an extinguisher that Jeffries gave us prior to the mission, but now he has it, so I'd better make a move or I'll be trapped.
Sensing my presence, Skye glances back at me before kneeing Jeffries in the stomach and flinging him back at me, waving gun and all. I use his temporary moment of weakness to yank the gun from his grip, but Jeffries recovers himself rapidly.
"I should have killed you immediately, but there's just something so poetic about leaving you down here to slowly decay," Jeffries says raggedly, yet reflectively as ever. He doesn't look concerned about the weapon in my hand, but then, that's probably because he's handcuffed himself to Skye without my realizing it. He looms back as if he'll throw her into the fire.
"Don't even think about it, Ward," Jeffries warns.
"I thought you wanted to study me," Skye snaps at him darkly.
"Yes, I do…from all angles," he assures her, making my blood boil. I can hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears, and I know I could do something desperate at any moment. "But I also plan to survive, and we need the book more than we need you," Jeffries explains. "So, 'Agent' Ward" - sarcastically - "how about you simply lower that weapon and I take the girl and the book and you stew down here for as long as it takes you to waste away and disintegrate."
It's the only way to protect Skye, so I nod stoically and lower my weapon.
"Ward!" Skye shouts at me as Jeffries blows a passageway for them through the flames with the extinguisher. The fire rages back on a second after the two of them have cleared.
"I'm starting to think it's just not my day, Skye," I call after her, knowing that come hell, high water, or as the case may be, both…I will get out of here. She needs me.
I hear the secret entrance close above me with a loud dragging noise that feels pretty damn final, but screw that.
I pace around for a minute trying to think of something, anything, to get me out of this problem. I recall that I still have my phone, though there's a thin enough chance there's reception down here. It's worth a shot, but who do I call? Then I remember who, out of all people, would know the most about busting out of a deep grave with few supplies on hand except for scuba gear and a med kit.
Dammit! I have to swallow so much of my pride (and a tangible fear of rejection that I try to ignore) that it's painful, but I dial the SHIELD bunker. When Coulson answers, I immediately ask to speak with FitzSimmons.
"Why would we help you?" Comes the tinny, slightly broken-up sound of Fitz's irate, accented voice. I've never been so happy to hear that sound, even if the reception is pretty sketchy.
"After everything you've done, you've got a hell of a lot of nerve-" Simmons chimes in, predictably.
"Shut up, both of you," I cut them off boldly. "If you want to save Skye, you'll do as I say."
That motivates them easily, and instructions flow from them at a rapid pace. Before I know it, I've McGyvered a fire extinguisher that they say should get me past the fire. Either that, or FitzSimmons are planning to kill me in revenge, but we're about to find out.
The force of the blast almost knocks me backwards, but I forge on as the air parts the fire and I leap through, my clothing ever so slightly singed. Otherwise, I'm fine, except that I've almost never been so pissed off in my whole life. Hoping that Jeffries never noticed the homing device Skye keeps clipped to her jacket, I switch on the GPS tracker on my phone and sure enough, there's her signal. If only it's really her and not the tracker lying discarded in some gutter. I race back to our hotel suite, where I pick the lock as quietly as I can and slide in apparently unnoticed. I can hear Jeffries' slimily coercing voice from the other room, as well as Skye letting loose some fairly choice words in a louder voice of rejection and panic. And that's all I need to hear.
Skye
Jeffries unpacks the book and lays it out on the bed. It's a thick old volume with a gold-embossed cover accented by ornamental jewels and a title in some language I can't discern.
"I'd like you to open this, please," he requests, standing way too close for comfort. What a creepoid. This situation is seriously the worst.
"No thanks," I reply with a casual tone that fails to cover my fear, since my voice is quivering. "How do I know this book isn't going to suck my soul out or something? You're obviously curious to see what's going to happen, so why don't you try it out?"
"I'm not nearly as significant a player in this game as you are, Skye," Jeffies explains mysteriously. "Compared with you, I'm really just a messenger, or a currier, rather. While your allegiance to the agency formally known as SHIELD is a profound disappointment, we at Hydra truly hope we might change your mind about joining us. A woman of your talents is an indispensable one indeed."
"What the hell are you even talking about? A woman with…hacking skills and some basic military field training?" I furrow my brow trying to figure out what Jeffries could possibly mean, and wonder with a weird burst of instinct if it has something to do with my unknown origins.
"Is this because of…who I am…who my parents were?" I ask, not sure what to believe about any of that based on the scant details Coulson gave me last year, most of which seemed like a shroud to protect me from a frightening truth.
"Now you're getting warm," Jeffries confirms. He steps even closer and presses one of his repulsively sweaty hands into my thigh, groping my body aggressively as his hand moves upward. I think I'm gonna puke, or kill him, or possibly both at the same time.
Before I have time to react in any way, Jeffries is lying prone on the ground with a snapped neck and Ward is standing there slightly out of breath, with burn marks on his shirt but otherwise none the worse for wear.
"Ward!" I exclaim, "You can't just kill people!"
He doesn't even bother to answer this flimsy remark, which was born out of shock and a habitual attempt to aid in his comprehension of basic morality. Instead, Ward sweeps me into his arms and hugs me with a desperation I reciprocate, melting into him and feeling all the fear seep out of me like a sieve.
"Yes I can," comes his delayed response, "If they're threatening you. Under any other circumstances, I'll keep trying to do the right thing and stay on a better path, for you. But for the same reason, that's the fine print in my "no just killing" contract, okay?"
"Okay," I murmur with an almost hilariously easy surrender.
"Besides, I saw the look in your eyes. You were going to kill him yourself. I just saved you the trouble." I can hear the humor, yet the respect, in Ward's voice.
"You mean you don't think I'm that girl who always needs to be saved?" I wince at the self-conscious suggestion on my part.
"Hell no," Ward replies, "I've never thought that. I feel sorry for anyone who crosses you, as my own track record proves. You can take care of yourself. I just like taking care of you."
"I think I can handle that," I answer with a slightly shaky smile, drawing back to peek at Jeffries' corpse. "Well, Hydra knows who we are. We'd better grab the book and get it back to the bunker so FitzSimmons can figure out what makes it tick."
"Skye," Ward says slowly, thoughtfully, "I heard what Jeffries said. Don't ever open that book. Let Fitz and Simmons do it, alone. I don't know what these "special" qualities are that people say you have, but they sound…"
"Powerful," I finish with a shudder, not ready to deal with that notion yet. I cross my arms and step over Jeffries on my way out. I feel isolated by my different-ness, and I wonder if someday learning the truth will take that chilling sensation away.
"Well, you've always had a powerful effect on me," Ward admits with a grin intended, like the words, to soothe my frazzled nerves.
"Ouch," I respond to the bad pun, watching him carefully pack up the book and slip it into his own bag. I ought to be suspicious that Ward may plan to take the book for himself and escape from me during our trip back home. I should expect him to do that. But I don't somehow. I just don't.
"Let's go home," Ward says warmly, even though 'home' for him is a plain, sad little cell that I can't save him from. I marvel at his ability to put my comfort above his own feelings on the matter of returning to SHIELD, which can't be anything but dread.
"Ward, I'm sorry you have to go back into lockdown," I remark, though this also makes little sense. I know he earned the sentence, and then some. Love hasn't blinded me; it's just made me wish for impossible things.
"I want to go back there," Ward assures me, putting a hand on each of my shoulders, his brown eyes shining with an honesty that his former jaded self would never have let me see. "I need to be wherever you are. So the accommodations are less than pleasant. I'll survive. I always do."
"That's because you're trouble," I remind him with a sly smile. Then I take his hand, and I can't help flashing back to that horrible day I found out he was a traitor and had to pretend I still wanted to walk with him like this, like an affectionate new couple. As much as that memory haunts me, I know now that this is what I want, the feeling of his strong fingers laced through mine. He's not the man he was then, and I understand things about him that I never thought I could. In the eye of a storm, the connection between us is that still point that we can both believe in and cling to, and I know that I can keep holding on no matter what. Because, most impossibly of all, I'm learning to trust Ward again. And most terrifyingly, yet most exhilaratingly of all, I love him more than ever.
"Okay," I say finally, swinging our joined hands slightly as we leave the suite and Jeffries' body behind. "Let's go home."