InsaneJournal

The puppy was staring at him. Tilting its head, probably wondering why it wasn't being fussed at. It had been fussed at before now. Ward meanwhile was steadfastly ignoring said puppy. He knew logically Stark wasn't likely to use something like that against him. That he wouldn't do that kind of thing. But it brought back memories. Being asked to shoot Buddy. The one friend he'd had all those months alone. Because he'd gotten attached and attachment was a weakness. He'd tried. He really had, he'd wanted to be good enough, to make John proud. But he couldn't do it. He'd shot his gun in the air and watched the dog run off into the woodland, his heart pounding. The dog that had loved him unconditionally, had been threre through the worst of times. That had helped him surrvive. Buddy had saved his life. He could never have hurt him. 

He didn't expect the  second gunshot. He'd turned around, ice in his veins. Knowing Buddy was gone. Knowing Garrett had been watching the whole time. Taking the decision for him.

He'd suffered for the error. Lessons had needed to be learned.  He was weak, he was pathetic and if he ever wanted to make anything of himself then he'd need to take the shot next time.

From then on he always had done. He'd become cold. Closed his heart, learned to pretend to love. Because it was expected. Because Garrett was right. He had been weak. 

He couldn't do this. He didn't need this. Stark had crossed a line. 

"Come on" he told the puppy. He'd take it outside, prove a point to Stark and everyone else that assumed he could be different. That anything could change. He was what he had been made and he was fine with that. He'd needed to be that. He had been weak, he had been nothing. John had taught him how to be better, how to be stronger, And this puppy, it represented so much of the weakness he still possessed. This puppy, Skye, actually signing up to work for Stark. Listening to freaking Romanoff of all people, Garrett had hated her probably more than most, The Commie tramp he'd called her. And yet some of the stuff she'd said had made sense. Which really meant he was failing, he hadn't been here that long and already he was failing. 

He lifted the puppy and it immediately licked his face excitedly. But he was resolute.

Down the stairs, quick as he could, two, three, four floors. the little black labrador still excitedly wriggling in his arms. And finally outside, an alley of all places. His hand went for his firearm and he paused. Looking at the puppy, the little innocent thing bouncing around the alley utterly secure around him. It wasn't scared of him, it probably should be but it wasn't. 

He could shoot into the air again, make it run off. Not be responsible for it. John wasn't here to take it from him.  But John would want him to stop the attachment before it began. Stark would be horrifed, Simmons would find another reason to despise him and Skye...

Skye was another attachment. He should never have fallen for her. He'd never intended to love her. But he couldn't change that. And he couldn't become something he wasn't. For all he'd done, for everyone he'd killed. He just couldn't....

The puppy jumped, well, as much as a puppy could, mostly it reached his shin and Ward knelt down, finally allowing himself to pet the thing. Tiny and hyperactive. But innocent. 

"Its not a weakness is it"

He slumped to the ground entirely defeated. He couldn't hurt it, he couldn't even send it away. So he gave in. Actually forcing back tears. He was nothing. He was a weak stupid pathetic waste of space. 

Though the puppy didn't seem to think so.