inthedarktogether:
She’d been completely in the dark about him being there until he was there. He’d gotten them out. He’d gotten all of them out and then disappeared back inside. And then he was just… gone. Again. It wasn’t that he was just gone, it was losing him all over again. And it hurt more than she thought it would.
She hadn’t held it in. There had been no reining in of the rage to channel into something productive later. She had screamed and cried until her throat was raw and her chest ached so much it felt like she was under that building, being slowly crushed under the weight of the rubble. After all of that, she was just numb… like there was nothing else in her to give, nothing strong enough to register a beat in her heart.
Until she saw him again.
Seeing him standing there, it felt like tearing stitches apart and letting everything open again. When his arms went around her, Skye had to work not to slump against him, knowing that he was probably in no mood or condition to be holding her up. Fresh tears sprang to her eyes, staining his shirt where her face was pressed into his chest. Sniffling quietly, she took a shuddering breath and looked up at him.
"I thought I’d lost you…"
And at that point, Ward did the only thing he could. He held her. He'd been prepared for her to scream, to cry and yell -- but he hadn't expected her to melt into his embrace, to make sure he was really there and not an illusion. So much so, in fact, that he began to wonder if this was some sort of weird, twisted dream. Coulson freeing him? Skye, wrapping herself up in his arms? No. That had never happened in any version of his reality, or any dreams he'd ever fooled himself into having. The only conclusion he came to was that it simply had to be the truth.
He looked down at her as she seemed to pull away, and Ward almost laughed. He hadn't seen his face, but he was sure he looked like a mess. He could smell the residual smoke, and he nearly wrinkled his nose. But his expression melted into a concerned smile, and reaching down, he squeezed her hand.
"I -- I didn't think I'd see your face again."
And not for the first time, he wondered how he had survived. That explosion should have torn him to pieces. But for some reason, he was here, he was alive, and he'd be damned if that didn't mean something.
"C'mere, rookie."
And despite the fact that he knew very well she was no longer his rookie, the nickname seemed to slip out. He took her into his arms again, closing his eyes and holding her close. He breathed in her scent, his hand rubbing between her shoulder blades as his nose buried itself in the crook of her neck.
