InsaneJournal

He'd made plans not to watch it. Plans to do anything else that day but sit through Christian's lies. Because he'd lie. He'd twist everything like he always did. The TV would stay off.

An hour before the show he worked out. Usual routine. It was out of his normal times to do so but he needed not to think. Half an hour before he tried to focus on the basic Greek he'd decided to learn to occupy his time. He was going through various gramatic rules when it happened. That image flashed before his eyes. Thomas, in the well, screaming for help. Christian telling him not yet. Not yet. Himself too scared, to weak to do anything about it. And he couldn't take it anymore. Grabbing a bottle from the fridge, he switched to ABC and watched it all, every moment of his brothers lies, Coulson telling him he'd never be part of the team, Skye giving up on him, being handed over to his son of a bitch of a brother, and of course he knew he'd have gotten himself out, that was no suprise. But it meant nothing. Nothing if they didn't trust him. Nothing if she didn't trust him. His eyes glazed over slightly, watching the screen. There was no point, to any of it. No point to thinking they'd believe him. No point in thinking Skye could ever forgive him, could ever return his affection.

He knew how to lie, how to manipulate. He knew that. But he was nothing compared to his brother. It was just that he'd hurt them all so much they'd rather believe him. The fine upstanding senator, willing to use his own brother for extra votes. He hadn't known Christian had been in the house when he set it alight but he still wished every day his brother had died in that fire. The world would have been a better place for it.

He paced for a while. Eyes drifting quickly to a razor lying on the shelf. He understood so much more now of why his other self had fallen to those depths. It would be quick. Easy. He wouldn't have to wonder if Skye would hate him forever. If everything he'd done here to try and change had been in vain. If even his friends would betray him. It was only fair, he was a traitor. He picked it up, regarding it for some time before placing it on the table. He didn't need that. He didn't. He wasn't that Ward.

Instead he picked up the remains of his drink before smashing the glass against the wall. It was time he left the house. It was safer to be outside. Safer to be away from people.

He ran. He didn't know for how long. Endurance wasn't a problem. He kept himself fit. Ready for any potential threat. There were always threats after all. He ran and ran eventually stopping in an alley not far from the Warehouse. Even now he couldn't stay away from her. Even now he just wanted her to know the truth.

He'd never lie to her. He'd tell her that. Everything he'd done. He understood why, he took responsibility but his feelings for Skye had never changed. They never would. Skye was everything to him. And he hadn't lied about Christian. He couldn't.

Nails dug into his hands, his own nails. short, but still enough to dent.

It wasn't enough.

Broken glass, Broken bottles. Broken life. Broken chances.

He held a shard. Watching the artificial street light reflecting in it. Dirty, probably a empty from a bar. But it would work. Maybe if he felt pain like he made them feel. Would that be enough? The wrists were obvious. They'd check there. Upper arms though, that he could do.

It actually did feel better. Pain was a good teacher after all. Pain stopped weakness. And Grant Ward knew ultimately, no matter what anyone said, no matter that freaking Captain America was being genuinely nice to him, he was still a weak pathetic mess. He would always be that. Even Coulson had confirmed it.

The blood was penance.

Amends of a sort

Skye had picked up her phone no less than a dozen times after the credits rolled. She was torn between what she’d seen on the screen and what she knew in her guy. She didn’t trust Ward any more than that version of her with the new bangs and the new attitude on her television did, but that didn’t stop her from feeling for him or from questioning what Coulson was up to. He had to know Ward would slip his cuffs. She’d know it as she watched, so had that been his plan all along? Or were they really so heartless as to send him to his brother.

Maybe it was what he deserved, but Skye really just didn’t know anymore.

After several minutes of playing with her phone, picking it up with the intent of sending a message and slipping it back into her pocket, because she didn’t even know what she wanted to say, she slipped outside into the cool night air. Fall in Kansas meant it wasn’t quite forty degrees out at this time of night and she shivered as she realized she’d forgotten to even grab a jacken. The cold didn’t seem to matter much when she spotted a familiar figure standing under a streetlight. Automatically, she started toward him and without realizing it, she softly called his name.

“Ward... What are you....” she faltered as she saw the blood running down his arm.

Of course it was her.

It was probably best it was. He'd never hurt her and she knew it. She knew him. Or at least he hoped she did. Maybe after all that she didn't believe him either. It didn't matter though, she was here, and he told her he'd never lie to her. He wasn't about to start now.

"Figured if I hurt then maybe it'd be something. And really I've had worse. You know that as well as I do. This is just...I guess I understand myself more. Which might seem weird but my eyes got opened. There's no going back, there's no redemption. Because he'll always want to tear me down, he'll always win. Even a whole universe away he still gets to win."

He'd said more than he meant to, the blood still trickling from his arm and pooling to the ground. And the shard of glass, bloodied, still in his arm.

"You don't need to be here, you don't need to check up on me. Its nothing. If I get near the wrists I'll let you know." he added wryly. "Skye, I didn't want you to see that. I didn't want anyone to. But mostly now I want to know if you believe me over Christian. And not the Skye on the screen, not even the Ward on the screen. Do you believe me?”

“I wasn’t- checking up on you. I just came out to get some air and here you were.” That was the honest truth, something she didn’t always allow herself when it came to Ward. For all he swore to never lie to her again, she lied to him constantly. But she also lied to herself. She told herself she didn’t feel anything for him but disgust. Revulsion. Hate. That was a lie, though, and some part of her knew it. Some part of her knew that his betrayal had hurt so much more because she did care about him and she hated that.

“I-” Skye started to say she didn’t know if he believed him or his brother, but then she realized that wasn’t true. As she took in the image of him standing there, the shard of glass still stuck in his arm and the admission that he’d done it to himself hanging between them, Skye realized that she did believe him. She didn’t know if that was smart. She certainly didn’t trust him, but her gut was telling her than he wasn’t lying. Not about this.

“Yes,” she said finally. “I believe you.”

"Fate" he said almost automatically to her comment about coming out for air. "Maybe you get to be there when I need you this time." Of course he always needed her. His beautiful Skye. Smart, brave, and yet compassionate with it. He watched her lose that week by week on the television and he hated it. May, Coulson, yes even him, they'd drained it from her with betrayal and lies.

He listened intently eyes fixed on hers, and as she spoke the glazed look that hadn't really left him since Christian had appeared on the screen seemed to lift slightly. She believed him. Oh she still probably hated him, he was still a traitor to her, things were far from okay. But she believed him over Christian. "Thank you Skye. I mean it, I don't...I know it doesn't change anything for you but the fact you believe me...It means a lot."

He looked down a moment at the glass still in his arm.

"And don't be worried. Its treating a weakness." he told her almost clinically before removing it with a wince and holding it to another part of his arm.

“Maybe someone up there just didn’t want you to bleed to death.” Skye didn’t believe in fate, for one. She didn’t believe in any great master plan or that certain things were just meant to be. She believed life was a series of choices. She believed in the concept of free will. Her finding Ward out here wasn’t fate. It was the result of a choice she’d made and a choice he’d made. It was just a coincidence that they individual choices had brought them to the same place.

Or he was a creepy stalker who’d decided to come over and slash open his arms right outside the place she lived in. That was pretty likely, too. “Besides, you can’t tell me it’s a coincidence that you happened to stop here, right outside the warehouse. That’s not fate, Ward. That’s...” she didn’t know, exactly.. “well, it’s not fate.”

The fact of the matter was that Skye hadn’t lost her compassion, not completely. She was hard around Ward because she had to be. Because she didn’t want to give him or anyone else the power to hurt her again. Because she wanted to be more like May. That didn’t mean she could just stand here and watch him do this to himself and not feel anything. She worked to hide it, worked to keep the compassion or any other trace of emotion from her face, but Skye held out her hand and walked closer.

“Give me the shard, Ward.”

Skye was skeptical. Of course she would be. It didn't surprise him at all. And there was the fact that him being here probably looked bad. He hadn't been stalking or whatever she probably thought. "I just like being close. I mean if anything happened. I'd never follow you or anything I'm not that guy. I just needed to go somewhere and instinct said you. I didn't plan to do this. Its not that I came here because of it, there's better places, safer places."

He wished she'd believe he had a chance at something better. Something more. But he wasn't sure anymore if she ever would. He'd hurt her. He knew that, he'd never forget it. But he could be better. He could be someone she believed in.

But now of course she wanted the glass. Wanted to help him, save him from himself, whatever platitude she decided he deserved. Maybe she didn't think anyone deserved to fall this low, even the traitor she hated. "Why?." he asked curiously. If he did that, she'd leave. She'd walk away again. A twisted part of him wanted to twist it, make her promise to go to that Hallow'een thing. Make sure he got to see her more. But he couldn't. Not with her. "If I do, will you stay with me? Just for a while, we can go somewhere less grimey. We can talk.You won't just walk away once you have it?"

He hadn't broken skin again. Not yet.

He liked to be close. God, that was so many levels of creepy and Skye knew she should walk away from him right now, just turn around and walk back into the warehouse and leave him to whatever the hell he was doing with that piece of glass. That same part of her that hadn't been able to let Deathlok kill him wouldn't let her just leave him out here like this, though. In moments like this, she knew her compassion was a weakness, but it was also something she couldn't help, even after everything.

"Because I don't want to watch you bleed all over a perfectly good piece of glass," she said, unwilling to betray how concerned she was. She couldn't give voice to the emotions churning within her. Even if she understood them, herself, she wouldn't acknowledge them out loud. Letting Ward see those feelings on display would be a mistake. She knew that.

An almost imperceptible nod of her head was all the answer he got to his request. "Let's get you cleaned up first, okay? Then we can go grab some coffee or a burger or something." She hesitated then. He couldn't come into the warehouse and she didn't know if she trusted leaving him out here while she grabbed some bandages. And a jacket, because she'd already been out in the cold too long without that extra layer.

Right, of course. He couldn't help a slight smirk at that. She couldn't let him in. She fought every second not to do it but part of her still seemed to desperately want to. And he couldn't argue that he wanted her to show some emotions around him. She'd gotten good at hiding them from him. But that was okay. He knew there was more that she wasn't sharing. "You're right, clearly the glass some bar has missed the bin with deserves better. Is it a traitor blood thing? What're you going with today Skye?”

He dropped the glass at the movement of her head. The slight nod was enough to sate him for now. She'd stay, talk to him.

"You don't need to clean me up. It's fine. Like I said, I've had worse." he told her. There was no need for her to leave, because she'd do that, go back in there, his name would get mentioned to someone, to one of them, and they'd keep her away from him. Or they'd decide he couldn't be out alone. He wasn't gonna let that happen. "Its not that deep Skye. We can go get that coffee, right? Just us?"

He knew how he sounded. Desperate, crazy maybe. Letting the weakness in. But he couldn't stop himself. Not with her. Daring to steal a glance at her, he noted a slight shiver. Nothing much just enough. She was cold.

"Take my jacket. I don't need it." he said, throwing her the jacket he'd entirely classily thrown across a dumpster lid before everything. "You'll look even shorter but you'll be warm."

“It’s a joke thing.” Ward was a traitor but right now reminding him of that felt a little like kicking him while he was down. Her humor was a defense mechanism, an attempt to keep from showing her obvious concern for him. That didn’t extend to cruelty, though, not right now. No matter how cold she’d been to him in other conversations since her arrival, she had too much compassion in her to allow her to twist the virtual knife after what they’d all seen tonight.

She hesitated when he said he didn’t need cleaning up. “Maybe I just don’t want to be seen with you like this,” she quipped. She knew he was right about it not being that deep. There was just some part of her, some part that stubbornly refused to go away, that wanted to take care of him. She wanted to help him, even though another part of her knew he was beyond any kind of help she could give him.

“Okay,” she said finally after a few minutes of weighing the options in her head. Going back inside would mean having to explain to the others, probably, and she didn’t really want to deal with their questions right now.

She hesitated again as she caught the jacket he threw at her, but the desire to be warm overrode her desire to not wear anything of his. She slipped it on, grateful for the warmth it brought and she tried to ignore that fact that it smelled like him or the reminder of how that scent used to make her feel safe.

She was agreeing, staying with him, wearing his jacket. And it all felt so right. Her being here with him, in spite of everything that had gone between them. His rookie having learned every lesson he'd taught her but keeping that goodness she'd had right from the start. The compassion that made him love her. She wanted to make it all okay even in spite of everything he'd done and how much she professed to hate him.

"I know its hard for you Skye. I really do understand that. Its easier to hate me isn't it? Easier to be like May and just close off. But you're better than that. I'm glad you're still you. And I really wish it could have been different with us." He'd had to say it, couldn't help but say it, watching her walking beside him, his jacket wrapped around her. How could he not wish things had gone differently. "And I need you to know how much I appreciate that you're still here."

"For now though, we still have to get that coffee, so lead the way." he said, figuring she'd prefer that than wandering off on a dark night with a man she didn't quite trust. Or at least didn't want to trust. That said she was just walking off with him, away from her Avenger shaped safety net. Away from Fitz and Simmons. Because she trusted him not to hurt her. That had to be a start, didn't it?