A/N: Me no own Agents of SHIELD. Even if my grammar's bad, it means the same thing.

The Return

Grant Ward was traitor. A lying, backstabbing, traitor. He betrayed S.H.I.E.L.D. He betrayed Coulson's team. He betrayed Skye. He was just another foster family. Just another foster family. She would get over it.

But he kept sending her decrypted messages. And she had no idea how he kept finding her. Upon Coulson finding out, she was instructed to burn everything she had. But since that would be drastic, she dumped everything off the Bus into the ocean, and borrowed clothes from Simmons before having her body tested for a tracker.

But the messages kept coming, dammit.

I'm sorry. Please understand. She couldn't not decode it. She couldn't help it. It was stuck in her brain. Understand what!? She would think. Understand that you left? Because I understand that enough. The results had come back blank. So there was only one realistic explanation she could think of.

He was following her.

He was following her like a freaking creep after leaving her like a freaking jerk. And she had enough. They set a trap to lure him out. Ha.

A rat trap for a rat. A rodent killer for a rodent. Because stalking was creepy. Especially an ex-boyfriend that became a terrorist. Because as common as it may seem, it (gasp!) actually isn't.

"Everyone in their positions?" Skye asked.

"Yes," the voices on the other side chorused. And then the shit. Went. Down. Sirens blared in the distance as Ward stampeded through the bushes, breaking into the area. Skye drew her gun and clicked the safety off, pointing it at Ward.

"Long time, no see." He whirled around. "I hear that you dumped two of my closest friends into the ocean. For that you'll pay. You know Fitz? He believed in you. He kept trying to figure out if you were being controlled because Grant Ward, the man he looked up to couldn't be evil. He wouldn't do that to us. But apparently the idiot outsmarted us." Ward had a pained expression as a team of heavily armed F.B.I. agents circled closer. "Fitz told me you said something, Robot. You said that caring is a weakness." She placed her finger on the trigger. "You're wrong. I don't know what you are, Ward, but it sure as hell isn't human. Because human's feel something. I don't care if it's guilt or joy when they kill someone but it's something."

"Skye, you don't—"

"Shut up, Ward. Shut up or I'll blow your head off."

"Technically, you can't actually—"

"You've missed a lot, Ward. You don't know the things that Fitz has designed while you were gone. One of them? This gun. It will lodge a bullet in your skull and with my word, set off your own, personal explosion that damages nothing but you. It's like jumping on a grenade—except it isn't your choice. You are a liar, Grant Ward. You are a coward. You think that feeling something makes you weak? Have a heart, for God's sake. You are a coward because you are too scared to feel. Do you know why I'm holding a gun to my teacher's head? Because I feel. I have emotions. Killing innocents is not right. Lying is not right."

He felt her breath on his ear as she drew closer, putting the gun on his forehead.

"You are wrong. You are a coward. You will never be strong. Fitz is stronger because Fitz feels something. May is strong because she gets angry. I am strong because I love. Simmons is strong because she has opinions. Triplett has managed to train under the same S.O., become a specialist just like you yet he isn't afraid. Coulson is strong because he believes in something. But what are you, Grant Ward? We have stripped you down to nothing. You are nothing. You never have been anything, you will never be anything."

He inhaled. She continued.

"Who makes up your mind, Ward? Do you have anything in there besides facts? Or do you have so many fake personalities that you don't know which one is real?" She put a hand on his jaw, tracing his stubble, tilting her hear in thought.

"Then kill me," he gritted. Her eyes sparked with cynical humor. It was beautifully horrifying.

"You deserve worse," she whispered before lowering her gun. "Take him into custody. If he argues, ice him. Shoot him in the balls, for all I care. I just want him in a cell in an hour." She walked away, not sparing him a second glance.

Innocence

As he looked into her eyes, the lady interrogating him, he realized the damage he had caused. Before there were sparks of fire among a sea of innocence. Now there were sparks of innocence among a sea of fire. It didn't take a genius to see that she hated him.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

But she was right. All he did was follow orders. He was a good agent. She was right again. FitzSimmons would always be stronger. Because they were not good scientists, they were great scientists. They followed nobody's orders. They experimented with anything and everything, took risks and disobeyed the system.

When will you stop pretending to be the victim?

But he was, wasn't he? He let it happen. He let the world fall before his eyes. His stupidity made him a victim. He was a victim, so weak, so pathetic, so disgusting. He did nothing to stop the innocent from falling. He pushed them down, instead of catching them.

"Give me the locations of the HYDRA bases you know of." His orders were to stay quiet. He could sustain torture. He was Grant Ward, Agent of SH—HYDRA. Not SHIELD. HYDRA. He had gotten too comfortable with that title. She finally moved onto the next question. "Why are you loyal to John Garett?"

"I'm not incompetent, you can just say Garett," he hissed.

"One HYDRA agent is no different from the next. Where's your cyanide pill, Ward? You can feel free to take it, we can just capture another one." There was something in her eyes, wariness, but it was masked by the flares of anger.

Check mate, Mr. Ward.

She just offered to let him kill himself like it was nothing. "I looked into your file. You are a sociopath."

"Don't call me that."

"I like to call it as it is. And setting your house on fire? Sociopathic. Killing your family? Sociopathic. Becoming a damn Nazi? Beyond sociopathic. That's full on insane. And you make me hate myself. Because I loved you like I've never loved before. But I'll get over it, because really, I take responsibility for that. But you broke me. Almost. But there is always hope. For all of us there is hope. But Ward, how can you expect someone to believe in you when you don't believe in yourself? So tell my why the hell you're loyal to Garett."

"He saved me from myself."

"And made you the lovely murderer you are today."

"That's enough," Triplett said, opening the door. "I'll take it from here." But even as she left, her words stuck. And even though she hated him, he still loved her.

It was a wicked tale, where she loved the man he pretended to be and he loved the woman who he used to know.

Consolation

"Fitz, it's not your fault."

"You told me to accept it, told me to accept that Ward was a liar, but I wouldn't. I was so stupid."

"Fitz—"

"No, Jemma, it was my fault. You could have died. I could have lost you and you—"

"Fitz—"

"I can't live with that—"

"Leo." He finally turned to face her.

"Yes?"

"Forgive yourself. For me. It's not over, Leo. You wanted him to be something he wasn't. He hurt us all."

"Yeah. But at least Skye lectured him. That must have hit close to home."

"Do you think she had notecards? Because I feel like she had notecards."

"I…maybe. Or maybe those were all from the bottom of her heart."

"Maybe she wrote it on her hands."

"Maybe."

"God, she must be inconsolable."

"He hurt us all, but she loved him."

"I think we all did. But at the same time, I'm glad things turned out the way they did, in an odd way."

"What?"

"Well, think about it. If she hadn't fallen for him, you wouldn't have been saved from the suicide mission."

"And he wouldn't have jumped to save you."

"Exactly."

"Is it wrong that I still want to hurt him?"

"Not at all. It's completely normal, Fitz."

"Thank you, Jemma."

"You're welcome, Fitz." She crawled back into her bed and sighed, falling asleep before hearing his whispered words.

"I love you."

Gracefulness

Fitz had always loved to watch Simmons work it the lab. When she wasn't stressed, at least. Because then she wouldn't swat him as much.

But even though she was stressed, working on a serum that would paralyze John Garett's mind and body, she looked beautiful. Graceful.

As much as she would worry, she always looked so beautiful, like a dancer that knew exactly what she was doing. It was a routine she made up in her head, a ballet she danced as she went, deciding which materials or vials to use or how much to mix or—

"Fitz!" She yelled, pulling him from his thoughts. "Stop staring at me!" She rushed around. "Just because you finished your part doesn't mean you get to give me that look!"

"What look?" He asked defensively.

"That one! The one that says to hurry up and work!" She yelled. He huffed. Because that look wasn't of bossiness or annoyance.

It was a look of love. Because Fitz loved Simmons with all his strength.

Fitz loved Simmons with all his heart.

Inquietude

Insomnia. Shit.

She was so tired after her day, but her heart was restless. Anger. Sadness. Hopelessness. No wonder Ward could fall asleep anywhere.

That son of a bitch. That piece of crap.

That monster.

She had loved him.

He had taken advantage of her. Of her good heart. Of her kindness.

So she spent the night shifting and kicking her sheets as if they were his face. And by morning, one thing was clear.

She needed to forget Grant Ward.

Progress

FitzSimmons had finished the gun. They gave it to May, who found the HYDRA base. Coulson and Skye distracted Garett while May took aim.

"I don't think you understand, Coulson. I am a super soldier now. I am stronger than any human."

"And weaker." Skye muttered. "No!" She cried as he threw Coulson across the room.

Then bang! A bullet flew into Garett's big fat ugly head and he fell to the ground.

It was totally worth it because there they were, dragging his body into the van and onto the Bus.

They stuck him in the same room as Grant, who had wide eyes, with nothing but a warning.

"Fight back and you will be next."

Sorrow

There he lay, Grant Ward's mentor in front of him, paralyzed. The man who made him who he was was dying in front of him, in a painful process the Simmons had explained bitterly, where his organs would one by one shut down, yet he would be alive until his heart stopped, which unfortunately for him, was last.

"Garret," Ward choked out a painful sob. "John." But the man could not reply, and Ward was filled with the utmost feeling of depression, of sorrow and of loss, and damn it hurt because this was the first time he had ever felt something so painful since Skye was shot.

So painful.

He deserved it.

Sincerity

"Forgive me, Skye."

The woman turned to face him, eyes filled with a mix of rage and disbelief. "That's an awful lot to ask for." She took slow steps toward him. "Especially for a traitor."

"Skye, please."

"Ward, no," she mocked before rolling her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I was wrong. I was wrong to lie but I swear I won't do it again. I promise."

"Are you being sincere this time?" her features had formed a look of compassion, eyes wide with concern.

"Yes. I promise."

The look of sadness morphed into a wicked smile. "Too bad it's too late for your sincerity." She thrust her lower lip out in a mocking pout. "Oh well."

The Farewell

Goodbye, John. He watched as the rotten body of his mentor, his leader, his father-figure was dumped into the ocean, a match following soon after and the flames engulfing him. He supposed that it was better this way, but S.H.I.E.L.D. should have known by then.

Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.

Which two would replace Garett? Who could replace a man like him? A man that was everything to some people and a waste of space to others? It was supposed to be Ward. It was supposed to be him that took control and lead his people.

But he was currently rotting in a cell, dying a slow death as the days went by, doing nothing but staring blankly into space, looking lost and a little forlorn. He was bored, the analytical portion of his mind going mad with vicious thoughts. But the blank expression remained. Because he couldn't afford to feel any pain at this stage in the game.

Because Grant Ward had no feelings.

Angel's Voices

He woke up to the sound of voices. The voices of the people he once thought to be his family. But slowly, those voices morphed. Raina became Simmons, Quinn became Fitz, and Garett became Coulson.

He jerked up in bed to find them all staring at him in wonder.

"Do you remember anything?" Simmons asked.

"No," he replied with a shake of his head. "What happened?"

"You killed Quinn and Raina. And fifty-three other HYDRA agents," Coulson said.

"I did?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"They tried to bust you out of prison. Almost did, but once you reached the base, apparently, someone said something about Skye and you just…went crazy. You wiped out every single person in the base. You also got shot."

"Any idea why I don't remember?"

"There's a large chance that your brain went into shock. But there's good news. Your sentence has been lowered," Simmons said.

"And Skye is on her way to forgiving you," Fitz added.

"Can I see her?"

Years later, when Ward got out of prison, rehab, and joined the military, Coulson's team was brought in as extraction. He and the team didn't speak, not really, but FitzSimmons whispered back and forth, sending him small, sad smiles. May sent a nod, as did Coulson. And Skye mouthed three words he hadn't thought he would ever live to hear.

I forgive you.

But at the same time, he wasn't surprised, because some people can't help being good. Some people can't help forgiving and giving second chances. And he was grateful.

All of a sudden, something erupted inside of him, and it was so foreign and amazing that he couldn't help but smile.

Because Grant Ward was happy.

THE END

A/N: Review? Also, if you know your romantic music, you'll realize that all the little sections were named after Burgmuller's songs, (which I obviously don't own), because I'm cool like that. And again, review.