Hi, everyone!

Today is the new chapter of Lost Children in the Dark! This is also a great step, 'cause we officially passed the first ten chapters! Youhou! I am so proud, 'cause I had never been this far in a story before! Well, I truly have to thank byLunaA for her help, and also for being here all the time for me!

You were maybe wondering what was in the mail Ward sent to Skye! The answer is today!

Enjoy this chapter! And don't forget to review! (it always makes my day, even if it's just a couple of words, or even an emoticon!)

It was morning. She could feel it. The light in the cell had never faltered, never changed, through the night. But she felt it was morning, as well as she felt people were walking by her cell. She sat on her bed, stretching her arms, ready for her morning drills. It would be different without the reassuring weight of her sword at her side. But she still did it. Her wounds were still hurting, after all it couldn't heal in a night. But she felt good.

She was in the middle of her routine when she heard a door open. The wall disappeared. She kept on following her motions, bit tensed as she was, it was not the same. A woman came to her.

She was little, smaller than Torunn but she had that contemptuous air, the one that made her want to slap it off her face.

"Stand still."

The Asgardian raised a questioning eyebrow. Who was that girl? She did as ordered because she was the prisoner.

"I'm here to have a look at your wounds. Don't move."

The woman said, already rolling up Torunn's sleeve. There was no need to do that, Leo had taken care of it quite nicely.

"Leo did a great job."

"He's not a doctor. He's an engineer. He usually patches up pieces of tech. Not flesh."

That was it. She was just some bit of flesh. The woman put a strand of light brown hair back behind her ear and sighed. After checking her arm, she moved her cold hands to her side.

"Anyway, it's director's orders. Believe me I have better things to do than being there in the cage of a monster."

Torunn winced when the woman bumped into her thigh, just next to her last wound.

"Where is your last one?"

"Right thigh."

It went coldly and silently. Torunn was wondering who was that woman. She wasn't part of Grant's description. Maybe she was new.

A man entered the room at that precise moment. He smiled at the woman who let go of her cold demeanour.

"We need you here, Jemma."

"I finish up with her and I'm all yours, honey..."

She smiled. Her contact was way different. Torunn could understand a slight difference, these two were certainly lovers. But her mean attitude towards her... The girl was Jemma, Jemma Simmons. Why was she acting like that? She was supposed to be kind.

The woman went away without looking at her in the eyes. Despise her want to know the family of her friend, Torunn now wished she hadn't seen her. There were true, deep scars in all of those she had seen. She couldn't let Grant see that. He would be broken. Even more than he already was.

She sat on the bed. What was she going to do now? She was patched up, she was rested… They had given her food earlier which she had eaten. She needed to do something, but she was locked up in that cell, and it was so frustrating! She could just step around and around the space, between those walls, look at the ceiling and practise without a sword, motions of battle she knew by heart. She hated it.

She knew her parents were somewhere in that place and it made her crazy. Why were they here? They had never cared. Why now? She felt like she was about to either scream in rage or burst into tears. Or do both.

In the lab, Leo was working silently as usual. He liked silence. He didn't need to speak. He liked that. He felt almost normal. He was trying to make his right hand work normally, but it wouldn't, and that annoyed him. But he did his work the best he could, and the results were coming. He was talking more fluently, it was easier for him to understand things and the little moves he could do with his hand were a great victory in themselves. But he wasn't back yet. And he felt nobody really cared.

He heard giggles and hurried footsteps, soft sighs in between kissing noises. The door opened. He didn't have to look to know. There she was. Jemma Simmons, the one he thought was his best friend, and maybe more. There she was. There was not one day they weren't caught kissing or worst. She didn't care about him trying to patch up the broken pieces of his sanity. The only one she considered was Tripp.

"Jemma! People are trying to work!"

He heard the noises stopping, a deep sigh and her voice almost aggressively resounded in the lab.

"No need to shout Leo! Try to have some fun some time. Soon. 'Cause nobody can stand your brooding mood anymore!"

And he heard them walking away. Why? What had changed? He couldn't remember when and how they had become so angry at each other. He hit the table in frustration.

"You look upset, clever man."

He turned around and saw that Sif was looking at him with a smile. He nodded. That was for the silence and tranquility he appreciated a few minutes ago. The woman never seemed to change. She always had that armor, her sword at her hip. She always was looking fierce and dangerous. It was kind of strange. He wondered if she wanted to see Torunn. He wondered if she really hated her daughter.

"How is she?"

He frowned. Why was she asking him? Jemma had just come back from checking her. He looked up to the computer still on from the night. The girl was pacing around in circles, looking stressed out.

"I guess she's good."

"She is quite the energetic girl."

"I saw her…. her…."

The words were escaping him, again, as always. He knew it, he was sure. He had heard Ward say it to Skye when he was keeping his lie on.

"Her routine, you mean?"

It was that. It was that word he had been searching for the last couple of seconds, seconds who lasted hours in his head. He knew that word. Routine. He could still hear May, or Ward saying that.

"Yeah that. I saw her routine this morning. She was up early."

"She is young but she was raised following the military traditions by one of the best swordswoman I have ever met."

"But not by you."

"Not by me."

She was sad. He could feel it deep down. She was extremely sad. He sighed. Families were always complicated. The way issues could come were too many and the solutions too few.

"Why don't you go see her?"

"I… She won't talk to me."

"Why would she talk to me?"

Sif sighed deeply, and looked at the picture of her daughter. She was a beautiful young woman. And Sif regretted not watching her grow. She should have. But now was too late for regrets.

"I don't know. I guess everyone not being her father or myself would be welcomed."

Skye.

Regrets. That's what I feel. I should probably say remorses. I should probably be already begging for you to forgive me. But I know you won't forgive me anytime soon.

I'm tired of playing the part. I'm tired of showing no emotions.I felt something when you made me understand how much you hated me. When you punched me. It hurt. It really did.

I guess you don't believe any of that. That wouldn't surprise me. You are quite stubborn.

That's very cowardly of me to say that in a mail. I guess I will say it again when I see you. I hope soon.

I miss you. I miss the way you always tried to have more sleep in the morning when I came and woke you up. I miss your crazy ideas, and that marvelous way you always answered back to everything. I miss everything. I miss you.

I should have let Garrett down when I realized what I felt about you. I thought about it. But I didn't. I was wrong.

Ward.

"He dared! He dared!"

She was crazy. This man was going to turn her crazy. He dared sending her a mail which message was basically that he loved her. After all he had done! He had the nerve to say that! Skye was crying in rage. She couldn't stand it anymore, she was cracking. She was exhausted, physically and mentally. She had lost weight. She was slowly but surely losing her mind. She had lost her heart. She had lost everything since Hydra. She had lost everything because of him.

She took a deep breath. She couldn't see through the curtain of tears. She was trying to stand up and wash the flood away from her face but she couldn't. She couldn't be strong. She just wanted to be weak for a minute. Or two. Just for once. She didn't know what she wanted anymore. The path she thought she would follow was lost in the sea of her tears, where was also her dreams and the raggedy remains of her pulverized passion. She had believed in him for God's sake! he had even… No she couldn't say it. It hurt too much. It hurt as much as her crazy chimeras overpopulating her nights.

Butterflies were appearing behind her tightly closed eyelids. She couldn't let herself go. But she did it anyway. She couldn't fight against herself. She had learned that. But she still tried. Because it was nonsense. It was all insane, foolish. It was just… It was just… It was just what she felt. It was just love.

She was still crying but not in rage anymore. It was the tears of a broken heart. It was terrible. it was all her. It was her fault. She shouldn't have fell in love with him. He was her weakness. She shouldn't feel that. And weaknesses were made to be beaten. He better run. Because she was going to find him.

She didn't cry anymore. Run, Ward. That was all she could say. Weaknesses were made to disappear with ge and training. he wanted to make her stronger. He wanted to make her soldier. Soldiers don't have weaknesses. He didn't have a weakness. So she was going to make him disappear.

She stood up. She walked to the bathroom. Her cheeks were strained with mascara. Was it the face of a soldier? She washed it away slowly, taking her time. It was the shattered love she had for him she washed away. It was dark and ugly. She was going to be new. Without that pain she still harbored into her chest. He would not recognize her. Good. Here's what you've done to me, asshole. Look what I've become. This is your masterpiece.

She wanted Death. Death. Violence. Fear. Tears. She wanted them to suffer. She was not just Goddess of Death. She was the one to make them pay for their acts. She was there to bring justice. A twisted, dark, woeful justice. Just as she was twisted, dark and woeful.

Hella had never been a joyous child. She was the crazy one, the gloomy one. The one who watched fire burn and destroy with a manic fascination. That had cost her half her skin. She had been burned because she was too close. Too close to the fire that burned and destroyed. She was her own kind of fire. Cold and burning. Monstruous. Icy.

There were so many lives to take on that stupid realm. It was such a little world for all this scrawing life. She was ready to help reduce that number. Wasn't that so generous of her? She was insanely craving the misery of this pathetic species. Of every pathetic species standing between her and the Nine Realms. Insanity was a word that had long ago became a part of her own being. She was insane to the point of no return. She was past help. Nothing could bring her back. As she ever been sane? She couldn't remember. She simply had never been.

She knew the look in the mortal's eyes. It was pain? This man was hurt to the point of no return. There were deep scars. Too deep to be healed. She didn't believe in what people called the power of love. Love was an overrated ideal. Some abstract goal no one could reach. But love brought hurt. That was the only thing she could appreciated about it. Love led to crimes. Love led to insanity. Love led to death.

"Mortal!"

She called with her low and cold voice. He looked at her. He was fierce. She could only admit that. He was brave. Maybe was it what people liked. She didn't care. She could only cared about what made their heart stop from fear. She could only care about what made them tremble.

"Yes?"

"How many soldiers do we have left?"

How many lives could they still sacrifice? He knew that was what she made behind it. That woman was crazy. He couldn't stand the way her bi-color irises glowed in manic fury and demented craving. He maybe looked like he was afraid of her. He was more disgusted by her. She lived for death. Was it even living? He saw the difference between Torunn and her. Torunn lived. Torunn loved. Torunn had freaking feelings. Well… It was what he had felt. What he had seen.

But now they were just puppets. In the hand of cruel masters. No feelings approved. No strings. they had to fight. He had to face that crazy goddess. and his own demons.

Here we are!

So what did you think of all of that? Tell me!

Until next time,

The Queen of Heart