Past, Present, Future
Title: Past, Present, Future
Author: Diane
Pairing: Grant Ward/Skye
Rating: Teen Rated
Disclaimer: I don't own a thing!
Spoilers/Warnings: This is a future fic that mentions an event that took place in episode 2.10 “What They Become” so please don't read it if you don't want to be spoiled. Please note, there are also mentions to Ward's self-harm/suicide attempts in this story.
Summary: Rubbing her nose against the side of his neck, she closed her eyes and breathed in his familiar, comforting scent. She placed her hand on his bare chest and savored the steady thump... thump... thump of his heartbeat. Her teeth bit into her bottom lip as she let her hand wander over to his right side and her fingers grazed along the scars that marred his skin... scars that she'd inflicted upon him.
Author's Notes: The idea for this came from this Tumblr post and it's another installment in The Ficmas Challenge 2014.
Despite the heat emanating from the cabin's fireplace keeping her toasty warm, Skye snuggled further into Ward's side.
Glancing up at him, she smiled at the peaceful look etched on his handsome face as he slept. She loved watching him like this... seeing him so unguarded and unburdened. Moments like these were rare, particularly as he was the early riser out of the two of them. More often than not, she would wake up to him watching her.
Rubbing her nose against the side of his neck, she closed her eyes and breathed in his familiar, comforting scent. She placed her hand on his bare chest and savored the steady thump... thump... thump of his heartbeat. Her teeth bit into her bottom lip as she let her hand wander over to his right side and her fingers grazed along the scars that marred his skin... scars that she'd inflicted upon him.
Her stomach roiled at the memory of aiming her gun and firing at him... the surprised expression he'd worn as she'd marched past him.
She'd been on a mission and she couldn't let anything... anyone get in her way and she'd known he would've done everything he could to stop her.
Over time, she'd contemplated on numerous occasions whether she'd intended to kill him but, deep down inside, she knew she hadn't. If she'd really wanted to kill him she would have put two in his head or his heart. She was aware, however, that something could've gone wrong with where she'd chosen to shoot him and he could've died anyway. The thought of it made her want to throw up.
As much as she had tried to hate him... told herself she did hate him, she didn't. She'd come to realize it was more that she hated the things he'd done... whether they were by choice or whilst under John Garrett's control.
“I'm so sorry,” she whispered, pressing a kiss just above his heart. When she felt his arm tighten around her waist, she was sure she'd woken him up but a quick look up into his face told her she hadn't.
As carefully as she could, she shifted her position so she could see the bullet scars and she swallowed thickly when her eyes settled on them. They had faded over the years but she instinctively knew their precise location... just as she did with her own scars.
Leaning over further, she dropped the gentlest of kisses over each one; saying a silent prayer of thanks as she did so that he was alive and healthy. Her breath hitched in her throat when her gaze landed on the vertical scar delineating the inside of Ward's right wrist.
God, there were so many times she'd almost lost him.
Reaching out, she slipped her hand into his and brought his wrist up towards her mouth, pressing her lips along the long scar. She recalled what she'd said to him after he'd told her what he'd done to himself when he'd first been incarcerated.
You should've run faster.
The words had felt bitter on her tongue but standing before him in the Vault, seeing him for the first time in months... she'd had to hang on to her hatred. Her hatred for what he'd done to FitzSimmons... to the team as a whole. To her. It had been the only thing keeping her going, that and her training with May. She tried to exhaust herself to the point where she was too tired to dream.
When Ward's wrist suddenly moved, his fingers flexing against hers, she startled and released it from her hold.
“Hey,” he said, his voice a gravelly whisper.
“H-hey,” she replied. Sucking in a breath, she raised her eyes to his and saw the smile he wore turn into a frown. “What's wrong?”
Skye shook her head. “Nothing. Why?”
Lightly brushing the pad of his thumb under her left eye, he wiped away a tear. “You're crying.”
“Oh.” She hadn't even realized.
“C'mere,” he said, holding out his arms.
She immediately molded herself into his warm embrace, tucking her head under his chin. She did her best to suppress the sob she felt bubbling up in her throat.
When Ward felt her fingers brush along the side of his ribcage... over his scars, he was certain he knew what was troubling her. It wasn't the first time he'd woken up to her touching them. “It's okay,” he soothed.
“I sometimes wonder if it would've been better if we'd never met,” she said softly. “We've hurt each other so much.”
“Yeah, we have,” he replied, “and while there's a lot I wish I could go back and change, meeting you... falling in love with you isn't one of them.”
“Grant...” Her voice was thick with tears and she couldn't say anything else. Moving so she could prop herself up on her elbow and look into his face, she saw his own eyes were wet and, repeating his earlier action, she wiped away his tears.
“So much has happened this past few years, Skye, good and bad... but the fact we're still together says a lot. It might not have always been with words but I think we've both said sorry enough to each other for the things we've said and done, and I think it's time to move forward and put those old ghosts to rest. What do you say?”
Cupping his cheek, Skye gave a small nod before leaning in and covering his lips with her own. “Okay,” she agreed. She knew it wouldn't be easy to just suddenly let it all go but she would try. For him... for them... for herself.
Taking her left hand in his right one, he brought it up to his mouth and pressed a kiss on the knuckle just below her gold wedding band. “I think the fact you married me kind of proves you're glad we met,” he teased, trying to lighten the mood and he felt the tightness in his chest loosen up when she laughed.
“Yeah,” she said, nuzzling her nose against his, “I think you might be right.”
Fin