Chapter 4
PRE-MISSION
“Bobbi, you're with Lance, as always.”
“Hells yeah!” grinned Lance, receiving a high-five from a pleased looking Bobbi.
“Trip, you're on your own until further instruction.”
“Guess I'm just destined to be forever alone.” That earned a snigger from the entirety of the van who'd been sat in palpable silence since Ward and Skye erupted.
“Myself, May and Fitzsimmons will be heading straight for the device which is top priority-”
“WOAH WOAH WOAH-” Skye interrupted, wide-eyed. Ward simply groaned and put his head in his hands.
“Yes Skye, you're with Ward. I'm sorry your having a rough patch and everything but he's the only one I know that will really keep you safe.” Holding his finger up in the rear view mirror, Coulson met Skye's eyes, silently willing her to bite back the protest and go with it.
Ward was sat quietly, going over the situation in his mind like he had been trained to do. For him, the only thing worse than being on a sort-of break with the woman he loved and knowing that she was in danger was being the one to protect her. He'd die for her any day- no doubt about it- but the rules of SHIELD stated that the only way that they could both work and be in a relationship is if the mission came first. Ward, not wanting to lose her by being transferred, tried his best to make sure he was concentrating on the mission and not her. However, he knew- despite having the highest mark for espionage since Romanov- that fighting side-by-side with Skye (whether they were together or not) would completely change everything.
This day was just getting worse and worse.
West Wing:
“Fuck!” Ward mumbled as a knife came tumbling in the air towards him, causing him to slam into the wall. Leaning all his weight against it, he took the brief second of respite to assess the situation. He was injured. A knife wound approximately 4cm deep ached uncomfortably in his shoulder, he had multiple contusions on his face and, placing a blood-coated hand on his ribs to check, he had at least 3 broken ribs. He was in pain, but he'd been through worse and none of it was fatal. Reassured that he was in reasonably good condition, he turned his attention towards a very tired looking Skye.
She was in a 1 vs 2 combat with two of the attackers a little ahead of his current position, therefore he couldn't see her face. However, by the way her movements were slowing, becoming sloppy and miscalculated, he knew that she was tired and, by the way she shuffled her feet occasionally when unnecessary, that she was injured in some way. He could tell when she wasn't herself in his sleep, so deducing this was childs-play. Wincing as he watched her take a punch to the gut, he scanned the corridor once more to see at least half a dozen more guards sweep round the corner towards him.
Somewhere in the corridors behind him, he heard the sound of combat distantly.
All this caused him to make the heady decision to abandon ship.
He had to get her out of here, mission be damned.
Knowing Skye as he did, Ward knew she wouldn't take lightly to the idea of abandoning their friends to save themselves. Therefore he made the decision to... well... not suggest the idea. Instead, he simply strode over to where she was batting off another kevlar with a right hook. Taking the man by the throat, Ward sharply slammed him into the floor, using his lunging position to sweep his leg round and wipe out the next attacker, rendering him unconscious as his head hit the floor. Standing promptly, he cast a brief glance to the corridor in front of them, planning their escape root in his head. They couldn't go towards the attackers and out to the van, there was simply too many of them for even him to handle. No. They'd have to head up to the top of the building and hope to lose them as they went.
Feeling a light hand on his arm, he looking down at the familiar face smiling softly up at him.
“We have to keep going, don't give up now.” Skye put on a 'Ward' voice while she parroted one of his famous phrases from their training sessions. Laughing gently at her own joke, she stopped when she felt him more then saw him giving her one of those intense looks that burned through every façade she feebly tried to put up in front of him. Her grin faded and she allowed her true emotions to show, knowing that he could see them regardless. If Ward knew how Skye would try put her walls up, he was an expert at tearing them down. Reaching out with a slightly shaking hand, he cupped her cheek, relaxing as she leaning in slightly, closing her eyes and sighing contently.
It didn't matter to Skye that they were currently in the middle of an important mission with about 8 kevlars advancing towards them, or that they were both injured, or that they could die any minute, or that they were away from home... because Ward was her home. Skye was Ward's life, and he was hers. They were both a little messed up and practically polar opposites, but they completed each other. She was everything he was not: light-hearted, resilient and compassionate whilst he was everything she needed: safety, warmth and understanding. They made each other who they were meant be. So no, it didn't matter to Skye that if they didn't move from this position in the next 45 seconds they'd be dead, because she'd missed his touch, even if it had only been for 6 hours.
It didn't matter in the end though.
Ward made the decision for her.
Tossing her over his shoulder in a firemen’s lift, he ignored her questions as he turned and began to walk towards the junction behind their original position. The questions soon turned into screams and small-fist pounding into the sculpted muscles of his back when he began his steady jog towards the junction, taking the turn into the North Wing and beginning the ascent up the many slate grey stairs. He didn't look back once. He didn't even stop. He just bit back the sob that he felt rising in his throat at the sound of her distress. He suppressed the dull ache that had set across his entire being. He breathed through the tiredness of his lungs. Because it was for her.
Everything he was doing was for her.
Skye.
To keep her safe.
Because she couldn't die.
He wouldn't allow it.
The thought of her getting out of here alive was almost enough to desiccate the feeling of crippling sadness that enveloped his insides.
If she didn't hate him because of what he'd said before, she'd definitely hate him now.
But if she was alive, it was worth it.
Right?
God he hoped so.
Because she couldn't die.
He wouldn't allow it.
Even though that's what people do.
Die.
But not her.
Not yet.
She had to know he loved her first.
Surely she would understand.
He did it for her.
For Skye.