Previously: Skye and Fitz have been prisoners of the Skrulls for about a week, in which time they've been used as the alien's entertainment. Unfortunately, it looks like Simmons and Ward are next on the roster.

Warning: Itty bitty torture warning... Pretty mild in my opinion. And the psychological abuse from the last chapter is still lingering but honestly I don't think it's too bad. And then we're done with it I swear! Still, you could wait until the next chapter's previouslys if you're worried and then come back if you're interested :)

Chapter Thirty-Two

Whenever the Skrulls would come to get Skye out of her cell, she wouldn't be there.

Oh of course, she was there physically, but the moment her mind would register what was coming her conscious would slip away, leaving whatever autopilot function she had to try and deliver what the aliens craved.

Which was basically insults, about herself, and why they applied to her.

She knew what she was saying wasn't true. Fitz had assured her of it the first moment they brought them back to the cell. He tripped over himself and stammered, trying to tell her it was all a game and she shouldn't take it to heart. But she knew that, in earnest. Sure, some of the things they made her say were probably real flaws of hers but she didn't really think those made her that horrible or defeated of a person.

But as the games continued, it became hard to separate realities from what she'd construct in her mind to proclaim.

She'd given them the word 'dog' because she had high hopes it would appease them, shut them up and let her go back to her tiny hole. The worse the dig would be on herself, the quicker they were always satisfied. And like every other word she'd said, Skye stressed in her mind that it wasn't true. They were just words. She would play along with them, though she knew she wasn't trained. She wasn't their dog.

But, wasn't she?

What was a broken person? When someone breaks under torture, it's because they finally gave up the information. Gave them what they wanted. It was when you listened to your tormenters and did what they said.

Good intentions or not, doing it for her friend or not, wasn't that exactly what she was doing?

So Skye realized she was broken. She was a trained, obedient dog for these horrible people she despised.

And she despised herself for it.

But as Skye found the horror in her terrified friends' eyes, she knew she couldn't be obedient any longer.

"Look what I found wandering around Rome… couple of strays," cooed Lyja, running her fingers through Ward's hair, gentle as a mother would her son. But there was no affection in the gesture. She pouted. "You know, I think they were trying to find you guys."

"What-" was all Skye mumbled out though, before Fitz took the reins.

"No!" he shouted, immediately running up to the glass that was their cell, pressing his face against it desperately. "Jemma! Oh god, Jemma, are you alright?"

Fitz's voice seemed to only distress the girl more as large tears began pouring down her face and she moved her head to the side, sobs muffled by the cloth in her mouth. She began to wipe her face with her bound hands. Skye saw the grey rings around them, recognizing the Cuffs instantly. They both had them on their feet as well, though those didn't appear melded together as the ones on their wrists did.

Lyja cocked her head to the side and donned a pouty voice. "Aww, can't you tell? Your girlfriend can't really speak up at the moment." Then she whispered loudly, as though sharing secret intel with a hand sideways on her face, "I think she's got something blocking her mouth."

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Skye found her voice, watching as Ward stood unmoving next to the girls. He wasn't even breathing heavily. He was just observing, and Skye knew he was waiting for an opportunity to strike. "I told you I won't do this ritual if you hurt my friends."

"You told us you'd do it if we didn't kill him," Lyja said, nodding at Fitz. "We said nothing about anyone else…"

"Well I'm saying it now: I won't do it!"

Lyja gasped with surprise Skye knew to be false. "But you submitted. Pledged yourself."

"I don't give a crap about some weird bow you people made me do!" Skye exclaimed, fire reaching the surface in fear for her friends. "Now let them go."

Lyja laughed, somehow airy and hearty at the same time. "I can't believe you think you have any leverage here. We've been playing with you for a week and all of a sudden you think you can make demands?"

"Yeah, you've been doing it to me. You can still do it to me!"

The Skrull rested fingers on her forehead, exasperated. "Oh dear god, little Creature, we are doing it to you. Don't you get it? This is the stage, and you're the audience. You're just as much a part of this game as they are."

Skye just shook her head, unable to put words into her mouth as it just hung open. It was happening again. This was all her fault again. Over and over again she put her friends' lives in danger, and once again, she was forced to observe in horror.

Simmons shaking just in front of her, terror on her tear-drenched face and a sense of trepidation in her eyes. Fitz banging as hard as could on the cage. Shouting. Crying. Ward was being as calm as a silent night, though he must have known what was coming. And Skye knew he had to be scared. He may have perfected the mask but no matter how many times you've faced death, no matter how many horrible situations you've been in, fear would always be there.

As Skye was learning.

"Skye, what do we do!" Fitz asked desperately, spinning in a quick circle with anxiety as his hand threaded through his hair. He stuttered something through tears. She couldn't make that part out.

"We…" Skye couldn't bring herself to say it. She knew just what exactly they could do about the situation.

Nothing.

"Skye!" Fitz shouted, requiring an answer from her. Shaking her shoulders. He was passed rational thought now.

"Fitz we can't… do anything," Skye explained in a horrified whisper, trying not to frighten the others more. "We're in the same boat."

"Right," said Lyja. "Whom should we start with? Little scientist girl… or big bad soldier?"

Simmons may have sobbed harder, but it was hard to tell. The girl was going at it pretty bad already. Ward was still standing strong. Fitz… Fitz was the one Skye's gaze wanted to avoid the most. He was shaking and hyperventilating, near jumping up and down in mad anxiety. But Skye was afraid if she didn't keep an eye on him he'd fall to the ground in pieces.

"Well, this one is already drowning in her tears. Maybe we should let her stew… and to be honest," she grabbed Ward firmly by the chin and forced him to look at her, "I prefer working into cuties who can handle themselves for a while. Makes breaking you so much more… satisfying!"

This was one sick, sick girl. Skye couldn't imagine all Skrulls were like this. They couldn't all be hell-bent on destroying species and hurting innocents. She wouldn't believe it. There could not be an entire race could be like that. These people must have been terrorists, a religious sect. She didn't know. But there had to be some reasoning behind their actions besides making people suffer for the sake of fun. Or genocide for the sake of… genocide.

Skye was pulled from her thoughts as Simmons' entire body slammed into the wall, the Cuffs on her wrists holding her there in a similar way they had to Skye on her first night with these creatures. But Jemma's stomach was on the wall, her face sideways as she tried to find air around her gag.

Then Ward was on his knees, and Lyja brought some instrument out of nowhere, like a secret she'd been keeping to herself. Taunting it in front of Ward's eyes, though he must not have known what is was. Skye sure didn't. Some kind of baton, it looked like. It didn't matter. The scene unfolding before her was horrifying.

Skye wasn't sure she wouldn't throw up.

"Now this is going to be fun," cooed Lyja softly, just before bringing up the baton to Ward's neck.

It was a Taser. Or something like it. Skye could see the blue shock come off the wand as it bore into Grant's neck harshly. His eyes widened into saucers, as he couldn't seem to hold back his grunts of pain.

"Stop!" shrieked Skye, suddenly becoming near desperate as Fitz with seeing Ward's pain. She shook like a collapsing house, every feeling of distraught present suddenly weighed down on her at once. "Jesus, I'll say whatever you want about myself. I'll do whatever you want. I'll bow and pledge loyalty or whatever crap you want, I promise! Just stop!"

Lyja grinned crookedly, seeming pleased to get such a rise out of Skye. And Skye hated it. But at the same time, she knew it was good. She had learned they would stop only when they wanted to stop. She'd learned the faster they were satisfied, the faster it would end.

But not now.

"Oh Creature, we're not playing that game anymore. There are new rules here. And the rules to this one are… huh, well, there really aren't any, are there?"

Skye fell to her knees, suddenly unable to support her legs a moment longer. She'd become accustomed to the position anyway.

"Ward, I'm so sorry," she told him earnestly, electing to leave out the apology to Simmons. The spotlight wasn't on the scientist, no reason to bring her to the Skrull's attention.

Ward barely nodded in acknowledgment.

It entered Skye's mind briefly – so, so briefly, as the fear, desperation and other emotions were in charge up there now- that just two weeks ago she may have enjoyed seeing this. When she wanted him dead. Nothing more than a Hydra bastard. But not now. Of course not now, while it was happening.

And so the alien went to shock Ward's neck again, blue sparks making their appearance.

When a miracle happened.

Ward grabbed the Taser. The baton. Whatever, the shocky torture thing! The important thing was that he had it and was somehow able to redirect it into the Skrull's chest. And he held it there. He held it until she was on the ground, and then held it even longer, and she was out.

Skye, along with what was probably a mad person's smile, near growled with satisfaction of seeing the woman go down. She then almost broke down in tears with a strange sense of relief.

Ward grabbed the gag out of his mouth, having to using both hands as they were still bound together by the wrist cuffs.

"Easier than I thought it would have been," said the specialist, flashing Skye a grin. She was kind of impressed with how unshaken he was.

Ward quickly plucked something from Lyja's clothes, his Cuffs falling off instantly. He walked towards Simmons.

"You stay away from her!" shouted Fitz suddenly, and Skye realized there was no relief on his face at all. He was still just as worried as when Lyja had waltzed their friends into the room. "Don't you bloody touch her!"

Then Skye remembered: the last time Ward had seen Fitz, it was from an airplane unit the Hydra man had been dropping into the ocean.

Ward did touch Jemma, putting his hand on the small of her back as he released her from the binds. He was able to steady her before she fell, and then shakily removed the rag from her mouth.

"It's ok Fitz, he's good again," said Simmons through remaining tears. "He's been helping us while you've been gone."

'Good again' seemed like a relative term to Skye; the guy still had a lot to make up for, but she supposed it was as accurate description as any to convince Leo. And, Skye had to admit, Ward had been more helpful and sincere than she would have imagined him capable of since he'd been back.

Fitz seemed rather unconvinced, but didn't argue, so Skye took his silence as a way of saying Skrulls trumped Hydra-Ward on the badness scale.

"Ward, check if she has a remote on her," Skye said. "You can open the cell."

"Yeah, I'd like to get the hell out of here as well," said Fitz strongly, barely a trace of his earlier panic attack showing.

"Ok… got it," Ward mumbled, taking the remote from Lyja's still form.

He pressed a finger down on the device and the cell door slid open, Jemma rushing inside before the two prisoners even had a chance to leave. She embraced Fitz immediately.

"Oh god, I'm so happy you're ok," she told him, her face pressed into his shoulder. He seemed somewhat stunned, but returned the hug.

"Same to you," he told her.

"Hey, Skye, how are you holding up?" Ward asked her. He sounded so casual. They were still in the belly of an alien spaceship, he'd just been shocked with electricity by a crazy lady, and here he was sounding as if they were just deciding what board game to play, if this were the old days, at least. That conversation might hold some tension now.

"Well, I'm up," Skye told him, realizing how literal of a response it was, as she'd been on her knees a few moments ago. "I'd ask you too, but you seem to be handling this amazingly well."

"I did have training," he pointed out.

"Yeah, well training or not, I'd rather you not have to use it. How about we get out of here?"

Ward nodded.

Fitzsimmons were still in an embrace when they looked over at them, seemingly in their own world. It made Skye feel a nibble of warmth in her belly, though her rational mind told her that cuddling could be done later once they were all safe. Preferably on the BUS, under cozy covers having a movie night or playing Scrabble.

The scientists finally let go of one another and turned to walk out the door.

But it shut.

"What the hell!" shouted Fitz, just as the door slid forward just in front of their faces as they met the threshold together.

Panic bolted through Skye, and she dragged her eyes over to Ward. He was holding up the remote, shrugging ruefully.

"What are you doing?" she exclaimed.

"Finishing the job," clarified Ward. "They were supposed to die, Skye. You're the only one I care about anyway, and dragging them along will only slow us down."

Skye shook her head. A small movement weighed down with disbelief at first, but then it gained fervor.

"No! Don't do this! I was starting to trust you, Ward. I was really starting to…" she cut herself off, unable to admit how much she was beginning to rely on him. Her head rattled again. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I want to," he said plainly, grabbing her wrist. "C'mon, we're leaving."

"No," Skye growled with frustration, planting her feet into the ground as he dragged her. "You're just as crazy as I knew you were before you killed Garrett. I never should have trusted you!"

"You're right," he told her simply. "I don't need your trust, or your permission, Skye. Just you. And, an opportunity to get you on your own away from the team. Looks like this is it."

"You can't be this evil!" she shouted, disbelieving as she tried to pry his hand away. "No one is this evil!"

Except…

In a surge of clarity that gave her a head rush, the pieces came together in her mind, and it all made sense. Bartak hadn't been there. He was the one who wanted to play a new game in the first place and had been there every single other time, so where was he now?

"Oh god," she said in a horrified whisper. Her head whipped around. "Fitz! They're-"

But "Ward's" hand covered her mouth, pulling her back into his chest.

"Shh, let's see how long it takes for him figure it out on his own."

Skye didn't resist the man's hand. She didn't do anything, allowing her body to fall limp in his staunch grip. Her new hope of ever leaving this place had diminished as easily as if someone had blown out a candle, and the girl's fight had gone with it.

"Oh lord, not this again," whined Simmons.

"I know! I can't believe you trusted him!" shouted Fitz. "It's been all of about five minutes I've been with him before he's leaving us to our deaths again."

"While you are right," said Simmons, "I was actually referring to the fact that my last moments are apparently going to be with you, again!"

The engineer stared blankly at her.

"What?" asked Fitz, hurt so plain in his voice.

"I mean, what are the odds that I would be stuck in a certain death situation again with you?" asked Jemma spitefully.

Red flags. Red flags popping up like daisies. C'mon Fitz.

But he didn't notice anything was off. In fact Fitz seemed to completely forget their current situation of hopelessness, suddenly becoming quite offended, even placing his hands on his hips.

"Quite good actually. Considering we've spent most of our frequent lives together, not to mention in a potentially dangerous line of work."

Jemma scoffed. "Then that must be the reason, I think. You can't protect us."

Fitz's show of offense went out like a light, and he began to suddenly express a state of miserableness, as he must have seen some truth in the comment. But Fitz had protected Simmons, he'd near given his life for her in the ocean. How could he not realize that? How could he not know how important he was?

Skye had had enough.

"Ow!" fake Ward shouted, shaking out the fingers she'd bitten. He'd become absorbed in the scene playing out in front of them so he was barely paying attention to her, and she'd gotten in a good chomp.

"Fitz, they're Skrulls!" she sputtered out quickly, before her mouth was hastily covered again, though the gesture was fruitless now. She'd said her piece.

Fitz had turned to Skye at the sound of his name, but looked back to Jemma with horrified eyes. The sinister smile the girl was now boasting only confirmed Skye's words.

"Well, mine lost," Jemma said simply. "I suppose Creature is smarter than you, pet."

Fitz swallowed nervously, backing away from fake Simmons.

"Oh, what's the matter?" Simmons asked, just as she morphed into something decidedly not Simmons. It was Bartak, voice low and cold. "Don't want to give me a kiss anymore?"

Fitz grimaced, retreating even farther.

Lyja then popped up from the ground with the pep to rival any cheerleader. "Oh, that was fun!" she squealed. "Wish I didn't have to have my eyes closed for it. You guys did great! You did it without original scans, too. I find it so hard to play a part without the memories…"

Bartak smiled. "Thank you, Lyja."

"Wait," Skye mumbled to herself, mainly. Her mouth had been uncovered for a few moments, though 'Ward' had kept her in a tight bear hug from behind. "If Bartak and Lyja are both there, then…"

She turned her head around to take in fake Ward's face. He was staring at her, smiling in such a way that made her skin crawl like a thousand spiders were creeping up her back. And it wasn't just because the manic grin was coming from a carbon copy of Ward. It was because she realized who the new player in the games was, confirmed as his face transformed before her eyes.

"Paibok," she whispered.

"Yes, Skye," he told her, and she fought to keep composure. She hadn't seen the alien who pretended to be her father since the first night she'd been there, and honestly, she'd been grateful for it. "They needed an extra body, and let's be honest… I missed you." He chuckled, and she felt her lip bend down in a low scowl. "Well, perhaps more specifically I missed those wonderful emotions that I can cause to run across your face. Fear, despair, misery… you were built for it, little mutant."

He threw Skye to the ground then, abrupt and viciously. Still, she caught herself well enough. And as soon as she braced herself against the floor, she was able to spy out some things within her reach.

The hacker's hand quickly went to grab the baton. She stood up, trying to use the weapon against her captor. The blue light spilled right onto Paibok's skin and there was the sound of crackling electricity, but he didn't so much as flinch. But of course he had to grin.

"It's a prop, nitwit," said Lyja dryly.

"Oh," was all Skye had to say in response, staring at the stick in her hand as her other hid coy behind her back. She wanted to turn around. Wanted to scurry backwards to be in her tiny, see-through cell. But if she did, they could suspect something was up. So she waited, sincerely hoping Paibok didn't enjoy lingering games as much as the others.

"There's a nice one," Paibok said, near gleefully as he pointed a waving finger in her face. "Embarrassment. Doesn't it look so nice on her?"

Skye felt herself slipping away. Not really, because she was in fact too fired up and anxious to try out this new secret weapon, but her body began to slump out of habit from the past week.

"Of course! It's our favorite game, after all," said Lyja.

"My favorite game would be breaking its fingers," mumbled Bartak, crossing his arms like a stubborn child.

"Oh come now, don't be greedy. You get to watch it die painfully enough."

Skye stood still as death, listening to the terrifying declarations and reveling of her misery, as she appeared defeated. But she wasn't. Inside she was seething. She was so mad that terrible, twisted beings like this existed and wanted to do something about it; she wanted to stop them. But with the knowledge that she wouldn't be able to, at least for now, she merely waited.

They all glanced to her then, probably hoping to see another "emotion" run across her face, but she kept it the same. Still, that probably satisfied them enough. Her blank mask of defeat to show how subjugated she was.

Surprisingly, she didn't actually feel all that owned. She really probably should. They kept her locked up like a caged bird and toyed with her and Fitz as they wished, but she didn't. Not since she thought they had her friends. Not since she saw Ward and Simmons like that. She just couldn't afford to be. The only thing she could afford to be was an agent.

Still, the aliens bought it well enough; Skye could tell from the wicked smiles they were now boasting.

She feared they might make her bow again.

They didn't, though Paibok laughed at her expression, waving at her dismissively.

"She's done," he said.

Done.

A strange thing to say when thought about, but Skye knew exactly what they meant. They believed she'd been brought down as low as she could get.

She wanted to prove him wrong, lash out, scream and show they hadn't doused her fire. But she hid the feelings. She'd had practice doing with Ward before. She merely gazed down at her feet, bit her lip, and used the most quiet, conquered voice she could muster.

"May I go back to the cell? Please," she asked with dead resignation. Her voice even broke during the plea at the end.

Good.

She gulped a lump down when Paibok leaned in close to her face, and she couldn't help but think that wasn't completely acting.

"Oh, have Lyja and Bartak been teaching you manners? How thoughtful of them," Paibok told her, his face far too much in her personal space. She had to stop breathing to not get a whiff of bad breath, and she briefly wondered what they ate with teeth as sharp as sharks', making a small shiver run up her spine at the possibilities. "But since you asked so nicely, of course."

He gestured invitingly at the clear prison.

"Thank you," Skye mumbled bitterly, just before turning around. She was careful to bring the hand she'd been holding behind her back around herself to her chest as she did.

Skye held her mopey attitude until all the Skrulls had cleared the room, Lyja complaining that the game ended too quickly as they went. Paibok silenced her with a snarl, dangerous and close to her face. By Lyja's eyes when he did, Skye realized something:

They were near as scared of him as she was.

But they were still psychopaths.

When the Skrulls were gone Skye let out of breath she was holding, allowing relief to come in and give her a welcome embrace. Even if there wasn't much to be relieved about, their mere presence had had her on pins and needles. Still, the respite was near short-lived when she saw her friend.

Fitz was just sitting on the bed, trembling. Face in his hands.

"I really thought we had a chance there… just for a moment!" Fitz quivered. "I thought we were going to get out of here. I thought you were going to get out of here."

Skye may have felt hopeful a moment before, but her friend's complete lack of such jolted her like a sharp slap. She'd never seen Fitz break down like that.

Hope was a fickle thing, it seemed. But it was strong, and to dangle such an ever changing yet impactful prize in front of someone only to rip it away was one of the worst torments Skye believed could be thought of.

She appraised him warmly though, letting her hand rest on his back comfortingly as she took a seat next to him. Her eyes scanned the room covertly, as though checking there were no Skrulls hidden in the walls.

"We are," she told him firmly, opening up her hand that held something so dear. "But we can't wait around for a rescue anymore. We have to do it ourselves."

And she watched Fitz's eyes as realization dawned, the little remote in her hand giving them the exact amount of solace they needed just to hold out a little longer.

A/n: See? The torture wasn't even real. Unless you count the crushed hopes, but then I bring them back up at the end! I think this may be a turning point guys!

So no spoilers (even though fanfiction seems to have done that already...) but just a reminder that this story is very AU now, and while I am drawing inspiration from a specific character from the comics for Skye's origins I am not going in the same direction as the show. There's some similarities but they're purely coincidental as I already wrote about 20,000 words ahead and... well, you'll see.

Some finale though, eh? Anyone wanna chat about it, hit me up.

Thanks for reading!