Saibh Aislin
Chapter Five
They walk down the staris, then through the long corridor, toward the heavy steel door. Koenig in the front, silent, perhaps a little resentful. Ward right behind him, in handcuffs. Were they necessary though? And Simmons in the rear, with an icer. As they approach their destination, the walls seem to be closing in, but it's probably just an illusion.
"How are you doing?" Simmons asks suddenly when they are about ten steps away from the door.
Ward stops, turns to her. He isn't sure what he's supposed to say. Why did she ask, what answer does she expect to hear from him? He shrugs.
She looks him straight in the eyes and sais in a voice barely above a whisper. "I still dream about... that moment, you know. Falling. I see your face in my dreams as you stand there and push the button. Do you?"
"Not anymore."
"Yeah." She sighs and lowers her head. "I guess time heals all wounds."
She takes his wrist and examins the wound, then looks up at his hairline. Pushes the hair back. Where her fingers brush his skin, Ward feels electric shock. A mild one but it takes all of his self control not to flinch.
"Those healed." She steps back. "Have you tried again?"
"No."
"Good. Don't. It won't fix anything and..." she hesitates, falls silent.
"I know." Ward picks up where she left off. He wants to reassure her that there's no need to fear him, that he's cooperating. He wants to. "I may help you still. With intel. I was telling Skye all you need to..."
"Don't tell me," she cuts in. She doesn't look at him, her lips pursed, face set. "Let's go," she instructs Koenig and the man nudges Ward's elbow.
They come to the door, Koenig punches in the code and pulls it open. Everything feels normal, calm even; Grant is returning home.
Until he sees the cell.
"No," escpaes his suddenly constricted throat.
Those padded walls, the bed with scratchy blanked, cold floor under his bare feet. Mack gave him shoes for this mission but they will sure take them away now. They will leave him in this empty room after they let him see the sun for a few hours. They will leave him alone, with nothing to do, not knowing when Skye is coming, when they will need intel again. Waiting. They will maybe turn off the lights too. Or maybe not, if he'll behave? He behaved. He helped them. Maybe they'll leave the lights on.
"Please…" he whispers but he can't say anything more, his throat is so tight. He realizes he kneels on the landing and there's this opening right before him, six-seven feet to the floor, no barrier. If he just…
"Okay, that's enough." He hears Simmons's decisive tone. "Take him back up, we'll lock him up in some other place."
"There isn't any other place secure enough," Koenig protests, but Simmons cuts him off.
"Find one. You know this base inside out, I'm sure you'll figure out something. Come on Ward."
He doesn't understand. It takes a few long moments for Ward to see Simmons's outstretched hand and realize that the way she stands – she's blocking the stairs leading down. Her other hand points at the stairs leading back up, toward the outside, the light, the air.
Grant glances at her to make sure she means it. He glances at Koenig and the man shakes his head, clearly displeased, but he turns around and climbs back up.
Andother glance at Simmons.
"Come on," she urges without a smile.
Grant scrambles to his feet and hesitates. Looks at her, this time without shyness.
"Aren't you afraid of me?" he asks.
Her response surprises him.
"No. I am not." She smiles with sadness, but her eyes remain cold. "I still hate you for what you've done to Fitz," she adds, "don't get me wrong. But I am not afraid of you anymore. I stopped being afraid of you when I started being afraid for you. And trust me, I hate myself for feeling this way. I hate myself for caring about your miserable life. But I do. And I won't let you suffer like this anymore. If we do this, if we, as S.H.I.E.L.D., stoop so low... then how are we any better than Hydra?"