Are You Ready For It?

Part One

x-x-x

'Knew he was a killer first time that I saw him

Wonder how many girls he had loved and left haunted

But if he's a ghost, then I can be a phantom

Holdin' him to ransom…'

x-x-x

The third drink appeared on the bar in front of Skye before she had chance to really drain the dregs from the second - not that she was complaining. It was luminous blue and contained both chunks of pineapple skewered on a stick as well as a tiny, pink umbrella. It would have amused the old her to no end. The Skye of the times, however, simply appreciated the high alcohol content and the lack of an acrid burn as it hit the back of her throat on the way down.

"Thanks," she drawled, already reaching for her new tipple. She had been in Hawaii only five days but she had already learned quickly what was palatable to her taste buds and what wasn't.

"No problem, O Hilo," the bartender replied, elbows leaning heavily on the surface of the bar itself as she attempted to peer around Skye and out across the sandy beach. The sun was characteristically high in the picture-perfect sky, and so the beach was full to capacity with families and couples and teenagers seeking to top up their tans or while away the hours in the clear surf. Skye didn't even bother to follow the barkeep's gaze as she stared out into the crowd, her eyes obviously lingering on a particular figure.

"That one's a killer," she said, her voice low and appreciative. Skye found herself only grunting in response; she was tired of playing this game with Mailey already, although it had been just a few days. The woman was as flirtatious and hungry for love as she was young and pretty, and it seemed that every remotely attractive, red blooded male with a pulse caught her eye throughout the duration of her shifts.

"Men are more trouble than they're worth," Skye managed before raising her glass to her lips and drinking deep. Mailey only scowled, reaching forwards and pinching the fleshy part of Skye's arm hard. Realistically, the Inhuman could have had the other woman on the ground and begging for mercy within several seconds, but she allowed the transgression to slide. She liked Mailey, who had been the only one to offer Skye some kindness and show an interest in her presence throughout the past eight months that she had been drifting from place to place. The girl had a round, kind face and enormous brown eyes that were so ridiculously expressive that Skye could read her like a book from one second to the next.

Eyes fixated on the subject of her latest lustful stares, the young college student shook her head and patted Skye's arm in an attempt to redirect her attention.

"No. Seriously. He is hot. Like… seriously, 'my panties are melting' hot."

Rolling her eyes with a groan, Skye finally consented to play along with the other woman, pausing first to suck a healthy amount of her cocktail through the straw. To say that the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent was done with men would be something of an understatement. Miles had been a mistake almost from the get go, interested only in her contribution to the Rising Tide rather than her heart; the heart that Ward had then completely and irrevocably broken. Then, of course, there was Lincoln Campbell – a guy who had quite literally sacrificed himself for her - a fact which never failed to evoke the very deepest guilt within her, especially when she realised that, for all of his sacrifices in the end, she had never loved him.

Skye thought that perhaps made Lincoln's death even more tragic, and certainly more her responsibility. Whilst she had cared about him, and been undeniably attracted to him, it had never been love. Skye found herself wondering now if she was even capable of the emotion. It was partly that guilt that had led her to flee from S.H.I.E.L.D. all those months ago, travelling across the country with a resentful need to be as far from the organisation as possible.

Finally turning her head to look at the man the bar tender was actively drooling over, Skye started as the woman tugged her arm again. "Don't turn around. He's coming over."

Heaving out a sigh, Skye stole a glance in the mirror behind the bar, and all at once she felt as if the bottom had fallen out of her stomach. Pressing her face into her hands, she let out a groan of irritation.

"Fuck me."

"Do you want him to? I mean, if you like him we can totally try to hook you up," Mailey whispered, her eyes alight with excitement at the thought, "might help you loosen up a little. I mean, no offence, but you seem kind of uptight… maybe bordering on alcoholism…"

"Mailey," Skye ground out in warning, wishing she could slump lower in her seat, which was obviously an impossible task given the fact she was perched on a backless barstool.

Of course he was still alive. Grant Ward was like a proverbial cockroach after all; Skye was pretty certain he could withstand the apocalypse, when it eventually came. As the man in question moved closer, his eyes sweeping every inch of the beach as though he was seeking out an imminent threat, Skye did her level best to make it seem like she was looking anywhere but at him.

That was precisely the moment Ward locked eyes on his target, and, lowering the Aviators perched on the bridge of his nose, he began to stroll with more purposeful steps towards the bar.

"Don't even go there, okay. This one's literally a killer," Skye gestured behind her back towards Ward's approaching figure.

Mailey watched in bemusement as Skye tossed the umbrella and cocktail stick out of her glass and threw back the bright blue beverage, drinking it down in little more than three gulps.

"I'm gonna need another of those. In fact, just keep them coming…"

"You know him?" the bartender checked, subconsciously biting her bottom lip as she watched the tall, dark, and scandalously handsome stranger approach them. His confident swagger was most definitely stirring up her interest and her hormones.

"Knew," Skye corrected, shaking her head and rubbing her forehead, "a long time ago."

She smelled his cologne before he'd even sat down next to her, and she made sure to keep her gaze fixed straight ahead.

"Daisy…" he began, looking her up and down with an odd mixture of fondness and obvious concern.

"Skye," she snapped, rolling her eyes as she intercepted his smile in the mirror. Planting her hands firmly on the bar, she felt her jaw tense in anger, the ever-present thrum of her powers surging through her body beneath her skin, reassuring her that she would never be vulnerable again. At least not physically.

"Last time I saw you, Ward, you were exploding into a billion tiny pieces just outside the Earth's orbit. So, what space rock did you crawl out from under this time?"

With a huff of irritation, Skye turned in her seat, almost ashamed of the brief pang of happiness that washed over her as she settled her gaze on his face. Clean shaven, his hair short, he looked just like 'her' Grant Ward; like the man she had fallen in love with once upon a time - like her hero.

Pausing to ask the gaping bartender for a bourbon on the rocks, the former Specialist simply reached into his pocket and tossed a leather ID holder onto the bar.

"Coulson sent me. He's worried about you. We all are."

Arching an eyebrow in disbelief, Skye scanned the S.H.I.E.L.D. ID wearing a smirk, almost as though she expected to be let in on a joke.

"Wait, hold on… Coulson sent you? You're working for Coulson? You're with S.H.I.E.L.D. again? What the fuck is going on, Ward? Because last time I checked, Coulson hated you, he literally murdered you, and now you're besties again?"

Snorting derisively, Ward shook his head as he took a sip of his drink, "Hardly. Look, long story short, whatever that thing was that crawled up my ass, it protected me from the blast. Last thing I remember is dying, and then 'it' was inside me… there's just fragments, moments… you. I remember you…" Noting how Skye lowered her gaze, shame crashing across her features, he concluded gently, "Anyway, next thing I know I'm waking up in Nevada with one hell of a headache. S.H.I.E.L.D. picked me up, and… I guess Coulson's guilt happily coincided with my own, so… here I am."

Closing her eyes for a moment, Skye pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, before blindly gesturing towards Mailey, who was making her customer's fourth cocktail of the afternoon.

"Yeah, so I'm just gonna need the bottle…"

Her smile wry, Mailey nodded her head without a word and scooted the bottle across the bar to Skye, who caught it gratefully. Ward eyed the alcohol with an expression half curious and half concerned.

"So, is this a regular thing for you?" he inquired, tilting his head as he indicated the half empty glass at Skye's elbow. She pursed her lips, her annoyance shining through immediately.

"You don't get to ask me that," she barked, making a point of throwing another slug of liquor down her throat.

"Coping mechanism," Ward guessed, completely ignoring the look of unbridled venom that Skye directed at him. "I'm sorry about Lincoln. I know it was sort of my fault. For what it's worth, I wish he hadn't been part of the fallout."

"Fuck off," Skye spat, and Mailey stood up a little straighter, her previously awestruck expression at seeing Ward now transforming to one of concern for the young woman she had befriended.

Shrugging, as if he realised he deserved her acerbic replies, Ward ran a hand through his hair. "Coulson's worried about you, Skye. Your friends are worried about you… and so am I."

Releasing a puff of laughter, Skye eyed him momentarily, "Well, at least you don't count yourself as my friend. That's progress, I guess… you know, considering I hate you and all."

Nodding his head, Ward agreed with her without protest.

"And I deserve that. But I promise you, Skye, if I have to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, earning your trust back again, then I will."

This time it was an actual peel of laughter that left her lips, and she rolled her eyes as she picked absently at the label on the bottle of tequila, her thirst now apparently quenched.

"I don't foresee you and I hanging out on a regular basis, Ward. So… whatever."

Widening her eyes in exasperation, Skye threw up her hands in defeat.

"Alright. Fine. You can go report back to Coulson, and tell him you've seen me and I'm fine. I just… I can't be around S.H.I.E.L.D. right now. I don't know if I ever want to go back. But I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

"We don't doubt that," he murmured, sliding a bill across the bar to Mailey in payment for his drink. He paused in order to down the rest of the glass, and Skye found herself watching his every move despite her overwhelming desire to punch him in the face.

"Then why are you here?" she demanded, her tone hostile and her lip curled. She couldn't find it within herself to feel remotely sorry for her treatment of Ward. He deserved ten times worse after all, given his past transgressions, where his betrayal of S.H.I.E.L.D. and their team was not even the tip of the iceberg.

"It's your emotional state Coulson is worried about," Ward replied, already beginning to rise from his barstool, "but I think you know that already. He's sorry that you were ever dragged into all of this. He sees what happened to me… the path I went down… and he doesn't want the same or worse for you."

"I am nothing like you," snarled Skye, her temper fraying so much that the bar began to tremble, and several glasses sitting on the nearby shelf shattered. Mailey let out a surprised squeal as she found glass showering her, and Ward set out a few more bills on the bar, apparently in an attempt to compensate for the damage Skye had caused.

"If that's what helps you sleep at night," Ward replied evenly, shrugging as though Skye's opinion was of no consequence to him. She felt her anger rising in waves and she was forced to dig her nails into her thighs in order to regain control of her errant powers, which kicked and screamed beneath the surface of her skin for dominance. Skye knew that she was trembling with the effort but she hoped that Ward would take it for a symptom of her anger. However, when the purple and blue bruises began to blossom on her arms, she knew that the jig was up.

A frown darkened his features and Ward reached for her arm, gripping her wrist as he attempted to examine her.

"You know S.H.I.E.L.D. can help you with this," he said quietly and gently, his thumb brushing over the darkest bruise and causing Skye to flinch. "Simmons says…"

"You tried to kill Simmons, remember?" Skye hissed, although she did not withdraw her aching arm from Ward's grip, "then she tried to kill you. Are you all suffering some kind of short term memory loss? Is that what this is?"

"Yeah, and now we're even," Ward replied without missing a beat, his tone suddenly becoming more sombre, "look, about Lincoln…"

Letting out a shriek of irritation, Skye slapped his hand away, "It's not about him, okay?!"

Licking his lips, the distaste evident in his tone, Ward continued on, "I know you loved him…"

Rounding on him with unchecked rage, Skye's eyes blazed with fury.

"That's just it. I didn't! I didn't love him, not like he deserved. Not like he loved me. And you know why? Because you broke me, Ward. You! You broke my heart," running one hand through her hair, she batted at the errant tear that had escaped her eyes with the other. "There's nothing left to give to anyone else. I trusted you. For the first time in my life I thought I'd found someone who'd never hurt me. Who'd fight for me. How wrong can you be, huh?!"

Her lips clamped together and her jaw set, Skye shook her head bitterly, standing up and folding her arms across her chest. "You know what? We're done. I don't want to see you again. Tell Coulson I'll call him."

Ward regarded her coolly and Skye hated him all the more for it. At least if he had floundered – if he had appeared upset or distressed by her minor breakdown – she could have deduced that he cared. Really though, she had come to terms with the fact that he was incapable of true emotion a long time ago. She had no idea why she was suddenly holding out hope for it now.

"We're done here," Skye repeated, spinning on her heel and pausing only to flash Mailey a look that communicated that whilst she may not be okay at present, she would be very soon. Understanding, the bartender nodded and busied herself with sweeping up shards of glass that littered the floor beneath her feet.

"I wish you'd reconsider," Ward called out, halting Skye in her tracks. She had barely made in several steps, and she froze when his voice washed over her again.

"Reconsider?" she asked, turning around slowly to observe Ward, who regarded her with crossed arms and an unreadable expression. "What exactly do you think I need to reconsider here, Ward?"

"You're upset, you're hurt, you're emotional, you're…" he began, trailing off when he noted the flash of furious anger that illuminated Skye's brown eyes.

"You know what? I wish you'd reconsidered once," she retorted, averting her gaze, "I wished you'd reconsidered following Garrett, betraying us all, dropping FitzSimmons in the ocean, watching me bleed out on a basement floor…"

Her words seemed to strike a chord, and Ward shook his head furiously, starting after her and curling his hand around the top of her arm to turn her to face him.

"You know I would never hurt you! I didn't know… I didn't know Garrett had…" He stared at her imploringly, "I would never let anything happen to you, Skye. When that thing was inside me, you don't know what it was like trying to fight it, trying to keep it from hurting you. It knew - it knew I loved you and it used it against me, like it enjoyed torturing me…" Pausing to gather his thoughts, Ward added sincerely, "If I could go back I'd do it all differently. But I can't. All I can do is try to make amends.

Skye scoffed indignantly, "Yeah. Poor you, Ward. It's always about you, right?!"

Shaking his head to dismiss her claim as nonsense, Ward offered her a wry smile, "You know why Simmons didn't object to having me back on the team?"

Skye pursed her lips and pretended to think it over, "She got new cluster bombs she wants to try out? Are we short a few targets in the firing range?"

Ignoring her barbs, he glanced down at her arm, slowly uncurling his fingers from her skin. "Because she knew being around you was punishment enough…"

"Gee, thanks," Skye quipped, eyes narrowing as she digested the meaning behind his accusation.

He continued on, undeterred, "Knowing that you hate me. That I lost you, and it's all my fault."

Offering him a withering glare, Skye grunted, "I don't hate you anymore, Ward. I'm just… not super excited about your existence."

Relenting somewhat, she added, "And if you're not full of shit, and you really do want forgiveness from the team, then I hope that works out for you. I get it, okay? I… did some pretty stupid shit for my mom and I hurt a lot of people. But that doesn't give you a free pass for what you did. You want their trust then you're gonna have to earn it."

"I know," Ward held her gaze, running his eyes over her face and mourning the bright eyed, glossy haired young woman he'd met only a few short years before. "What about you, Skye? What do I have to do to earn your trust?"

Skye inhaled slowly, looking out onto the horizon towards the beach, where the sun was beginning to dip beneath the ocean line. The breeze was warm and soothing against her cheeks, and she felt her anger ebbing away as she returned her attention to his hopeful gaze.

"Don't. Just don't," she said wearily, "don't pretend you care, Ward. You feel guilty, okay? I get that. I do too."

She thought back on her actions over the past couple of years, and those she'd unwittingly involved along the way. Lincoln's face was at the forefront of her mind.

"But don't pretend this is anything more than that. Aren't you tired of all of this? Of the fighting? And the lying? I am. I'm so tired, Ward."

Ward's brow furrowed as he watched a steady stream of tears descend her cheeks, and without thinking he lifted a hand towards her face to brush the moisture away with this thumb. She allowed him the contact but she flinched when his skin met hers, as though it physically pained her.

"I know. I know you are," he murmured, "and you know how I feel about you. That'll never change."

Stepping away from him, her hands raised as tough she was poised to defend herself, Skye rapidly shook her head.

"I can't do this," she said, although her voice was small and forlorn, rather than raised in anger this time. "I just want to be left alone. I want to forget that any of this ever happened."

A moment of silence stretched out between them both, punctured only by the sound of gulls wheeling overhead and the waves lapping at the shore. Ward watched her closely, managing to hide his sorrow from her well, since he had been trained to do so since he was fifteen years old. In contrast, Skye had always worn her heart on her sleeve, and it showed in that moment when she seemed to struggle to reign in her emotions. Her bottom lip trembled horribly and her eyes began to water again, although she attempted to blink back her tears in a valiant fashion.

"Do you think that you can?" Ward asked finally, something about his tone genuinely curious.

Skye regarded him, undecided as to whether she should even entertain answering him. However, against her better judgment, she decided that she must.

"I'll never know, if you don't even let me try," she whispered, her voice growing husky.

Searching her eyes, he shook his head, once again realising that the weakness Garrett had taunted him about had reared its head.

"I can't," he said simply, "I wish I could. But… you're the only thing I ever loved in my entire life, and I can't let you go without knowing I did everything I could to make up for the way I hurt you."

The sincerity in his tone was matched only by the honesty she found reflected in his eyes, and Skye felt suddenly rooted to the spot, as if physically unable to break free from his gaze.

"That could take a while, Ward…" she said, offering him a shrug and the ghost of a sad smile.

Cocking his head, Ward too smiled, and the gesture reminded her so much of the man she'd fallen in lust with that it made her heart flutter despite the protest from her brain telling her to make a hasty retreat.

"Well, I guess that's one of the perks of refusing to stay dead. I've got a whole lifetime to put things right."

Feeling her resolve wavering, Skye glanced down at the floor and then out into the ocean again, anywhere but at Ward's face. The war between her brain and her heart was raging, although she quickly reasoned that each had gotten her into her fair share of trouble in the past.

"You don't give up, do you?" She finally came to a decision, twisting her lips into a frown as he continued to stare down at her intently. "Ughh, alright! Fine. Coulson gave you a second chance, so… I guess I can too. But just to be clear here, Ward, you and I are not friends right now."

His smile was dazzling, "How about we start from acquaintances and work our way up from there?!"

"I'm not promising anything," she retorted, folding her arm across her chest and glancing back behind the bar, where Mailey was watching them both with obvious interest. She had long since finished clearing up the pieces of glass Skye's powers had rained down upon her, and she seemed to be following their interactions with a level of attentiveness that most people reserved for their favourite TV shows.

Skye shot her a scowl and Mailey retorted with a grin, but made no move to busy herself with other pursuits. Part of Skye was annoyed, but the more relaxed part of her was amused.

"I wouldn't expect you to," Ward said, nodding his head a little too vigorously. He seemed suddenly nervous in her presence, although Skye could understand why; from what he had said since his appearance, he was coveting her forgiveness at least to a degree, and she had already been more than vocal about the fact that she was loathed to give it.

"I'm not ready to go back yet. I figured I'd stay here a few weeks," Skye stated, adding with a mischievous smirk, "taking full advantage of a S.H.I.E.L.D. credit card is one thing I totally don't feel guilty over."

Ward laughed, arching a dark eyebrow, "In that case, I hope you went for the penthouse suite."

Skye wrinkled her nose and crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly realising how revealing her tank top was. It clung to her chest and hugged what remained of her curves, which had admittedly dwindled after months of sometimes forgetting to eat.

"The main hotel was a little too people-y for me right now. Kind of wanted to be on my own, so I'm staying in one of their villas. Figured they'd notice less if I lost control of my powers."

Ward nodded in understanding, suddenly shooting her an apologetic smile as he stated, "I'm gonna have to tell Coulson I found you."

Skye shrugged, realising that not only would Coulson be worried about her wellbeing, but that Ward couldn't afford to have any secrets between him and his old/new boss. "Sure. Just… tell him I'm okay and… I just need to clear my head."

Ward inhaled slowly, looking out over the beautiful scenery and the restaurant situated right next to the beach before he decided to push his luck somewhat.

"Maybe I could buy you dinner?" holding up his hands, he added, "just as friends… acquaintances."

Skye pondered his invitation for a moment, somehow feeling as if this was one of those decisions that would prove pivotal. Only a big, empty villa and an evening of room service and TV awaited her, and she supposed the fresh air would do her good. It was yet to be decided just how beneficial or not the company would prove.

"How about you call Coulson, and then… S.H.I.E.L.D. can buy us both dinner?"

Ward dutifully retrieved his cell phone from the pocket of his jeans, and Skye was taken aback somewhat when he held out his free hand towards her as if preparing to shake the hand of a business acquaintance.

"Grant Ward," he smiled at her affectionately, glancing down as she gingerly slid her hand into his.

Deciding to play along with his game, she squeezed his hand perhaps more tightly than he anticipated and sent a tiny shockwave of energy coursing through his palm. Replying through a teasing grin, she came to a decision she hoped she wouldn't live to regret.

"Daisy Johnson… but you can call me Skye."

We own nothing. Lyrics belong to the fabulous Ms. Swift.