Titolo: mad
Fandom: Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Personaggi: Skye/Grant Ward
Genere: introspettivo, erotico
Avvertimenti: hate!sex, spoilers per l'episodio 2x09 "Ye Who Enter Here", missing moment, in inglese
Parole: 2460
Note: bon, ho plottato questa scena subito dopo aver visto una certa scenetta nell'episodio. Non ho manco guardato la preview per il prossimo, e most likely non lo farò XD questa cosa è praticamente tutta una mia ipotesi, e l'ho scritta in un'oretta scarsa, e non l'ho manco riletta quindi prendetela per quello che è, oh.


"Grant."
He looks at her instantly, as he helps her onto the little plane Whitehall so generously granted him.
"Grant, we need to talk now."
She looks angry, really angry, and what brings a sad smirk on his lips is that she doesn't sound like herself anymore. Had she been the same Skye he first met and first fought with, she would be punching him, yelling at him, scratching like a furious cat. And yet she sounds and even looks so much like Melinda, right now. The Skye he knows is buried under all that fake zen training May surely put her under. She's good even with her left hand now, but her current S.O.'s training has changed her mentally. He doesn't know how he feels about that.
He knows he's gone through hell and back to get to her, to keep faith to the promise he made, and whatever her reaction, he's going to do it.
"Not now, Skye. Whitehall won't like what I've done, and he's probably gonna try to shoot us down. Which is why," he replies, whispering, as he helps her on a seat, making sure she's buckled up, "he's gonna try to shoot us down. Rayna," he continues, turning his head to look at the other woman, "you too. Buckle up."
As they both secure themselves, he securely walks to the pilot cabin, twists the pilot's head and swiftly takes his place. The plane doesn't even waver as he takes the pilot position.
"Grant!" She calls now, watching it happen before her eyes. But that was a Hydra agent. Why does she suddenly feel sorry for the same people she would've murdered herself a second ago? She looks at the back of Ward's head, with anger and resentment still boiling inside of her.
"I could cut the air with a knife," Rayna comments, casually, the only person to utter a word. Skye throws a look at her, and then her eyes go back on him.
"Grant, come on, explain this to me now. No bullshit."
"Have I ever lied to you? And I mean, after the whole business with Garrett." He simply replies, before looking back at her for a split second. "Fine. This flight ain't gonna be nice though, Skye. Don't tell me I haven't warned you," he adds as he suddenly makes the plane speed away from the others.
"Do you even have a plan?" Rayna asks, suddenly starting to get alarmed, but knowing that this is Grant Ward, an agent as good as Romanoff. He won't fuck this up, but still.
"Of course." He replies, dryly, too focused on getting them away from danger to speak.
"Are you taking us to my dad?" Skye asks, then, relaxing against the seat. She knows she is in the safest place she could be at, even though her mind desperately wants to hate everything about the situation.
"Yes." He readily returns, as he focuses on the flight.
They are currently following the strongest wind current, to gain speed and distance on the Hydra vehicles, and he's pushing it as fast as he can, his mind almost completely focused on it. Of course, he knows there's a woman in that plane who hates his guts. Then again, Skye might be the kind of person who's vindictive, but she's not stupid. She knows better than to do something dumb like try to take over.
"You'll see, your dad really cares about you," Rayna says, still mildly scared but also determined in completing what she set her mind to do. After all, being scared is her daily bread, these last few days.
Skye shoots her a look, sighing.
"Yeah, I bet the mass murderer is really a teddy bear at heart," she mutters back, to which the other responds with a sigh. She still doesn't want to see, she thinks. She remains silent, and vigilant, but still with a billion and a half thoughts flashing through her head. She has to be two steps beyond anyone else, after all.

"Did you murder your mom and dad and brother, Ward?" Skye eventually ends up asking. Grant winces, almost noticeably, as his eyes get dark. He does not answer, not at first.
"So what if I did?" He eventually answers.
"Do not give me that vague shit. It's a yes or a no." She wants to believe he didn't do it, because she wants there to be the Grant she met back on the bus, that one person who wouldn't hurt anybody who wasn't a direct enemy. But he is not anymore, she tells herself, he is a mass murderer, a traitor, a liar. And she wishes the hatred and disgust she feels for him wasn't connected to the love she once felt for the guy she thought she knew.
"Huh, still speaking in absolutes, I see. Yes, I did. You listened to Christian's confession, didn't you? He and my mother and my father were monsters. The world is better off without them."
Funny, she thinks, I could say the same things about you.
But she doesn't say that. She says something else instead.
"You know, you really are weak."
He is, because there are thousands of people who went through the same things he did, and yet they don't end up being terrorists who kill their own families in cold blood, she completes in her head.
Grant knows what she's referring to, and he clenches his fist around one of the levers, nervously, but then he relaxes.
"Free to think whatever you want, Skye."
Her reaction is silent fury. She wants to fight, she wants to scream at him. She would be doing that, now, if her behavior hadn't been radically changed. Ward is pressing on her hate-fu, she knows that, and yet she's falling for it.
Rayna observes her, noting the conversation. She is like a fly on the wall during a passive-aggressive cold war, and boy is she enjoying it. She's learning so much about Skye, who promptly realizes there's someone else there, and calms down. Outwardly, at least.

Skye finds herself free to move a mere thirty seconds after landing. Ward had to shut off the view from the windows, all of them, because after all they're still hostages, technically.
She has no idea where they are. She tried spying through the glass as the wheels rolled out, but she couldn't make out much of their position. Everything is white.
"Your father will be here soon," Ward then breaks the silence, after making a quick call. 'She's here,' he's said, and that is the only other thing he's uttered so far.
"Hooray," she retorts, muttering. Grant finds himself smiling a little, for she let herself slip through the cracks, for a moment. There she is. The woman he loves is still in there.
The place couldn't look more anonymous and nameless. She can't place her surroundings, except obviously it's somewhere cold. Maybe Canada. Or more North. Anyway, she's shaking like a leaf. Once he notices that - which is almost immediately - Grant grabs an electrically warmed up blanket, throwing it gently over her shoulders. She gives him a frowning look, but still she wraps herself in it. Rayna also gets one of those, but she doesn't really stop shivering until they're in the bunker that's exactly where it is supposed to be. Rayna grabs the little things she has and literally disappears, toward a solitary room. Grant is not worried, because everything is going according to her plan, escaping would not make any sense... And he is also grateful. Him and Skye should have a proper confrontation, and now is a good time for them to.
"Grant, don't think I've forgiven you. I'll never forgive you," she starts, walking close to him. Literally nothing would prevent her from stabbing him in the back now, punch him until she's tired of it, release all the anger she's gathered in these months.
"I never asked you for forgiveness, I know I don't deserve it. I only ever asked you to let me keep my promise to you," he replies, widening his arms and taking a step back once he's made sure they haven't been followed.
She looks at him, her eye twitching. He doesn't make sense. He hasn't made sense pretty much since she figured his allegiance out back when she found herself crying about it in a bathroom inside a secret S.H.I.E.L.D. base.
She quickly walks towards him, starting to pull her fist back to punch him, but something inside of her clicks. She cannot just punch him like that. Some twisted part of her still loves him, in the purest of ways. It wants him to be the best possible version of himself, and he isn't being right now, but he's trying, isn't he? He's trying so hard. She hates him, oh yes she does, but he could be so much more than what he is now. He betrayed her trust, her heart, and she cannot forgive him, at least not now. What she ends up doing is using that fist to grab the collar of her jacket, and shove him against the wall behind him. And then attack his lips, biting down on them with anger. Grant does not even bat en eyelid.
His lips taste like blood but they are still sweet, almost alcoholic, addictive. And the next thing he does is cupping her cheeks with all the gentleness he's able to convey. That is an unusual reaction, coming from her. He does not find any victory or joy in having her mouth on his. It's just sad. She hates him. She hates what he is right now.
She remembers about loving one of his masks. That is sad. That is lonesome. But he does not pull back. If that is what she needs to let her frustrations out, then so be it.
Her body clashes against his messily from the get go, there is no sweetness in the way her hips crush against him, the way her fingers grab his head, roughly, the way she speaks his name.
"Grant."
She growls it, as she takes her clothes off. He's only allowed to get glimpses, but that is her, she is doing that of her own will.
"Skye, I don't think you want this," he whispers, trying to find her eyes.
"Shut up."
She needs him to. She's not a little girl. She can manage herself. And she wants him. And she'll get what she wants, for once, she needs to hold something for herself. She's been selfless this entire time... she can want something. Something that won't hurt her. She knows that about Grant, since he's wrapped around her finger. She keeps shoving him against the wall, eventually letting him take the lead. She lets him. He does not complain one more second.
He leans her against the wall, both his hands on her head's sides, his body still shielding her even with no threats in sight. She pulls on his shirt, panting as he rubs his thumb on her cheek.
They keep kissing, Skye with anger, Grant with dedication; she unzips his pants trying to be fast, and groaning about how complicated they are.
"These things really prevent you from having sex."
She's calling it as it is, and Ward snickers uncomfortably at it. He replaces her hands, while her lips go back to crushing his, her whole body aggressively attacking the other. She's too angry to do this properly as she used to wish.
Once he's naked from the waist down, Skye comments about how lean he is and how his muscles developed way better in the D Vault, to which he does not reply. That is not a compliment, not to him.
He kisses her again anyway. She closes her eyes, as she drops her pants as well and kicks them away.
She does not care. She only wants to use him, just like he ended up using her and the entire team.
"We don't have a condom," he starts, but she shuts him up with a hateful kiss.
"I don't care. You're not going to come."
Huh, he thinks. Seems fair.
She grabs one of his hands and guides it between her legs, and then Grant knows what to do. She climbs on him, already sighing and moaning softly, her hair falling on her face, her hips buckling as he fingers her, gently, and then following her rhythm. All he gets is to inhale her smell, and that's enough for him right now. He wouldn't dare to ask for more. As she pushes herself against him, something happens.
"Grant."
She calls him, her voice fragile, her eyes watering. She doesn't know when she went from wanting to tear his head off to crying. She just knows she isn't liking this anymore. Her body is responding, but she realizes that hating him only made her sick. She wants to stop, but she does not know how. He leans her against the wall once more, one of her feet balancing her on the ground, and he looks at her. There's so much sadness. She shouldn't be crying, not because of him. He gives her another kiss, and while before she bit lis lip, always, this time she lets him. They exchange one more kiss like their first one, and she wraps her arms around his neck.
"I hate you so much," she growls, while tears roll down her cheek. Grant kisses them away, his body curling once again to protect her - if only he could protect her from herself! - and moving his fingers inside of her, now slowly and gently. She has to push her hips and guide him to teach him where to go, and when he gets there she lets out a gasp, while he drops soft kisses on her neck. When she comes, her whole body quivers, and then lets itself go against Grant, who welcomes her with wide arms.
"I'm so sorry I'm not the person you want," he whispers, closing his eyes. "But I do love you."
"I know," she replies, her face hidden on his neck, anger and pleasure still rushing in her veins. This didn't feel right until she allowed herself to think of him as what she wished him to be, and he'd been himself the whole time. Completely, a hundred percent himself, the person she saw in Vault D, in the bus just a few hours ago, through the phone when they talked.
Only her perspective changed.
She was still angry, and hatred still had roots in her, but at least she'd let the anger out through instinctive stress relief.
She's allowed to hate him. She's allowed to be angry forever. What Grant wants for her is happiness, and he won't stop protecting her until she gets it, and even after if necessary.
Unlike her, he knows who she is.