and the fire that is starting to go out

written by wickedsong.

Disclaimer/Note: I don't own AoS. Look at me being all edgy with my lowercase title (from New York by Snow Patrol; which didn't actually inspire this short thing in any way but it's just a really good song). Anyway, I've had this idea - possibly due to the combination of songs that aren't not New York by Snow Patrol and my general love of angst. I may write a companion piece but I'll see how you guys enjoy this one first. Don't hate me too much, 'kay?

If she's honest, she had never thought it would end like this.

She's been shot before. Twice. She knows pain. She knew it before that and she knew it after and she knows it now.

A door stands in her way. He stands on the other side, because it's the only way to protect her. If there's one thing he has always tried to do, it is protect her; protect everyone. Because that's who he is; who he's always been.

(She's protected him too; sometimes, maybe in the smaller and quiet ways that they both don't quite understand but they still appreciate; but there's no way she can do that now).

FitzSimmons shout at her to come on but she can't move. She keeps looking at the door that lowered before she could reach him. She held her hand out, told him to run like FitzSimmons are telling her now. But he took the only option that a defender can. He pushed her hand away; their fingers brushing for a cruel moment before he opened fire, as the door slammed in front of her.

He was making a last stand for them, for her. Stupid, noble, brave.

She didn't shout and she didn't scream. She didn't feel anything at all. It was like she wasn't wanted all over again or a third gunshot to her stomach. It was only her, this hallway and the door.

A step forward and she touches the door carefully. She's searches for his hand but she can't find it and maybe this is the worst kind of pain.

Maybe if she wishes really hard.

No wishes, no ifs or buts or maybes because it's only a door.

Her comm buzzes, and there's breathing over the line. It's laboured and ragged. She already knows what's coming, but she speaks anyway.

"You shouldn't have done that."

FitzSimmons still hover behind her, keeping a look out for May and Coulson who should be arriving for them any time soon.

Just a moment more. Please.

"You're safe aren't you?"

She swallows. She's safe. She's an 0-8-4 and she's safe, away from any of the people who would wish to do her harm.

"I didn't need you to protect me, Grant."

When she doesn't hear anything she thinks that she's lost the connection already.

"No. You didn't. But I wanted to protect you, Skye."

Do you mean Skye the Person or Skye the 0-8-4?

"It was my choice."

Skye the Person.

"How bad is it?"

She'd rather know now than later but it's the one question he doesn't answer.

Maybe it's for the best.

"Please, Ward, I-"

Her hand still rests on the door and she wonders if she could just will it away.

"It's cold."

He's preparing her. He's her S.O. Of course he has to prepare her.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry."

She's puzzled. What could he possibly be sorry about in this situation?

"There are…so many things I should have…I should have…"

Regrets are a poison she's had too much of.

He can't be another one.

"It's okay, Grant, I know."

She hears a weak laugh over the line. She smiles in spite of the way her body shakes.

You and I see the world differently is all.

one

I am trying to protect you.

two

I believe you.

three

"Skye, I-"

Maybe he'll make it.

The comm goes dead.