Chapter Text
IX.
She felt his wet kisses on the back of her neck.
“Oh god.” She rolled over in bed to see his bloody grin. “I’m still mad at you.”
“I was defending your honor,” Ward said, peeling off his black t-shirt. Bastard. Using that against her. He knew her weakness.
“Don’t pull that with me,” Skye said. “I know you were defending Fitz. Don’t try and deny it.”
“It was still chivalrous,” Ward said. “And that should count for something. A lesson I'll teach our kids.”
The end of the sentence hung on the air. She knew he was drunk or he wouldn’t have said it. Not that he didn’t think it. He just would have picked a better time to bring it up, she was sure.
Well, it was out in the open now. “Kids,” she said.
It hadn’t been so long ago that she would have said this was the worst possible time to be thinking about something like that. But Ward had recovered at an astronomical rate and it didn’t seem like so preposterous now. That left all the other issues with it.
Ward shrugged before settling into bed with her. “Yeah. You never thought about it?”
“I’ve thought about it,” Skye said. “I just thought we’d talk about it before you made a decision.”
“No decision,” Ward said. “I just thought it would be a nice. A little girl with your eyes.”
Skye had to admit, it didn’t sound bad. “It’s a lot to think about,” she said instead.
“I don’t disagree,” he said. “Something to think about.”
“I just know what it’s like to grow up in the system,” Skye said. “I know what this world is. I’m not sure I want that for anyone, let alone our child.”
“I know what this world is too, Skye,” he said. “But ours would be different. She would be ours. And we would love her and take care of her. The way we never were.”
“She?” Skye had to smile at that. The stupid romantic.
“Yeah,” Ward said. “She.”
“Well I never thought about it that way,” Skye admitted. “I’ll think about it.”
“That’s all I ask.” Ward leaned in to kiss her.
“God how do you taste more like whiskey than blood?”
“It’s in the genes.”
He was so stupid cute when he was drunk. He sometimes did this the night before a mission. It hadn’t been a habit before Ireland but now she couldn’t bring herself to chastise him for it. He needed to heal in the way that he knew how.
“Remember to take your meds with you,” Skye reminded gently. He was becoming a little forgetful lately. She wondered if he really wanted to stop taking them altogether.
Ward sighed and leaned back on the pillows.
“They’re helping, aren’t they?” Skye asked, curving her arms around his torso.
“Yes.” He was terse now. A clear sign of detachment. That wasn’t what she wanted.
“Ward.”
“I don’t feel as much,” Ward said, “when the flashbacks come.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?” Skye asked. What worried them both was that he was becoming too detached. Tonight was a good night. He was with her. But they both knew it wasn’t perfect. That worried her when he brought up things like having children.
“I looked down at myself today,” Ward said quietly, “and I couldn’t remember how I got these scars.”
Skye looked down at the four bullet scars on his torso. She shot up quickly in bed.
“Grant.”
He couldn’t look at her.
“Grant,” Skye said again. “I shot you.”
“I remember now,” Ward said hotly.
This wasn’t what he needed right now. She knew that. She lay back down next to him, hugging his back. After a moment, his fingers curled comfortingly around hers.
“When you get back from your assignment,” Skye said quietly, “we’ll make an appointment with Simmons.”
He was quiet. She didn’t want him to leave. She hugged him tighter.
“And we’ll discuss baby names.”
He turned in her arms, a slight smile across his lips.
“Like Brady.”
“Brady?” Ward asked in disgust. “I hate the Patriots.”
“I know,” Skye said and kissed him on the nose.
“I love you, rookie,” Ward said.
“Love you too, supervisor.”