[ silence stretches on her end, a black screen while she debates whether or not to conform to his lack of request. her video stays off while she tracks her heart rate, but she watches him, studies him for signs of dishonesty.
finally, she flips her video on. her room's dark around her, and an oversized, long-sleeved shirt is hanging off one of her shoulders. she's in bed, eyes rimmed with red and wet hair hanging over her shoulders. this haunting hasn't been kind to skye.
she wants to scream at him. to blame him for the fact that she ever wound up in that place: she never wanted this destiny, but ward and her father— it doesn't matter now, though. it's done. and that'd only give him more power over her, to vent all of her frustrations. she shoots for apathy, instead. cold and unaffected. calculated, just as she'd been when she'd gunned him down in san juan. ]
I think you're desperate and trying to cut deals. [ he never wanted to help, she decides then. ] You saw something up there that you thought you could use to help you catch a break. I know you, Ward. Opportunistic. So yeah, that's exactly what I think this is.
[He grits his teeth. How could he ever...His lips form a line and he reaches for that zen, that sense of calm ...that Garrett taught him.
Out of everything the man had done, taken away a sense of self and a sense of home. So his gaze fixes on the screen and he goes robot.]
Sure. I'm desperate and I don't want to die or spend the rest of my time locked in my room since I doubt anybody here would be willing to leave me meals and I don't want to starve to death.
[His scars itch whenever he starts talking to her. It's a reflex.]
But hey, if you want to play roadrunner then that's fine.
[passive.] I'm not afraid to die. I have nothing left to lose.
If he were predictable, if there were something she could use against him, there'd be less to worry about. But like this, there's no telling how to keep him from doing something incredibly …
psychotic. ]
I always imagined you as the roadrunner.
[ Said flatly, which is its own form of cooperation. ]
[ She replies readily, as unaffected as she can manage. Her shoulders shrug simply, lips purse like it's some matter-of-fact situation that she can detach herself from. (She can't. She wishes she could, but she killed him and it didn't help.) ]
The way I see it, you have one card to play. I don't think I need to worry about you blowing it by letting it get out because the minute you do, it's rabbit season. But we have not settled our differences. And you can bet that I will tell everyone exactly what to expect from you.
That's our deal. [ Not much of a deal at all, but then, Skye's never been the type to negotiate with terrorists where she can help it. It's not as if he has a gun to someone's head, like Mike did. ]
Funny. It sounded a lot like begging for your life to me.
[ It's easy to be smug when she has the high ground, when he's weak and injured. If it came down to a fight and he weren't, she's pretty sure she wouldn't get out of it unless he let her. Agent 33 was proof of that—not to mention this newfound inability to control herself. ]
How'd you expect this to go, Ward? [ Her gaze narrows and she leans in like she's genuinely interested, but there's a sarcastic edge of mockery to her voice and the set of her jaw. ] You'd present a truce, we'd pal around, and get back to training like the old days? Pretend you'd never lied? Pretend that even a moment of that was real? Is that what Raina convinced you would happen?
Yeah, that'll go over well. Beware the limping guy who I mortally wounded.
[ Cut him down. She's trying to be ruthless because she let him see her weak and terrified. She has to make up for that. Has to winnow her own weakness and compassion out because it's wasted on him. ]
You're not the only monster crawling these halls, but you and the Nogitsune are chump change next to whoever got us here.
She catches herself, talking shop. Speaking of paling around. Her expression curdles unmistakably, but she suffers through it. Two reasons: 1.) he's HYDRA, which makes him a useful asset that Coulson would have kept around for intel if he hadn't been more useful to trade, 2.) Skye's not in a position to cut off her nose to spite her face right now. ]
As far as we can tell so far, it's like the Stanford Prison Experiment meets Big Brother. The show, not the 1984 government. They've pulled individuals from worlds that I've never even heard of—chances are, we aren't even on Earth anymore.
Have you ever heard of HYDRA using tech like that?
[ The way the light drains out of her eyes says it all: that's what I thought. Some of the bluster leaves her shoulders and she slumps back against the headboard. Silence has her glancing away from the tablet for a minute. Thinking. ]
Now you get why some PSA about you would be a waste of everyone's time.
Sitting on my ass and trying to recover, talking to random people?
[He snorts.] Scared of Loki?
[He can't really manage to sound mocking about this. He's scared of Loki too. Asgardians in general.]
There's not much else for me specifically to do here. [C'mon Skye what happened to rebuilding trust? He almost types that. almost. He gave her everything, every single solitary thing and she shat on him.
Still, despite her words, she has every intention of digging into the potential that Loki really is here. On her own terms. Not on Ward's word. He doesn't have anything left to offer her: she has no reason to continue the conversation beyond this point, and it'll help the memo pad on her nightstand stop humming if she hangs up. ]
Ward isn't sure what this means but goddamnit all to hell she hasn't given him any sort of word.
He can't sleep like this.
He can't think like this and he can't get away. Staring at the feed for a moment longer he drags his hands through his hair one last time before throwing the communicator across the room only to have it land on the dog that was in his suitcase.
Nothing to be done but roll over and stair at the ceiling and pray for another life.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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finally, she flips her video on. her room's dark around her, and an oversized, long-sleeved shirt is hanging off one of her shoulders. she's in bed, eyes rimmed with red and wet hair hanging over her shoulders. this haunting hasn't been kind to skye.
she wants to scream at him. to blame him for the fact that she ever wound up in that place: she never wanted this destiny, but ward and her father— it doesn't matter now, though. it's done. and that'd only give him more power over her, to vent all of her frustrations. she shoots for apathy, instead. cold and unaffected. calculated, just as she'd been when she'd gunned him down in san juan. ]
I think you're desperate and trying to cut deals. [ he never wanted to help, she decides then. ] You saw something up there that you thought you could use to help you catch a break. I know you, Ward. Opportunistic. So yeah, that's exactly what I think this is.
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Out of everything the man had done, taken away a sense of self and a sense of home. So his gaze fixes on the screen and he goes robot.]
Sure. I'm desperate and I don't want to die or spend the rest of my time locked in my room since I doubt anybody here would be willing to leave me meals and I don't want to starve to death.
[His scars itch whenever he starts talking to her. It's a reflex.]
But hey, if you want to play roadrunner then that's fine.
[passive.] I'm not afraid to die. I have nothing left to lose.
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If he were predictable, if there were something she could use against him, there'd be less to worry about. But like this, there's no telling how to keep him from doing something incredibly …
psychotic. ]
I always imagined you as the roadrunner.
[ Said flatly, which is its own form of cooperation. ]
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The fact is you don't know the real me.
[His lip quirks upward] at all.
[That's the trick though. Neither does he. Not that he'll show his poker face to her.]
I'm bugs bunny. Also the car in monopoly.
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[ She replies readily, as unaffected as she can manage. Her shoulders shrug simply, lips purse like it's some matter-of-fact situation that she can detach herself from. (She can't. She wishes she could, but she killed him and it didn't help.) ]
The way I see it, you have one card to play. I don't think I need to worry about you blowing it by letting it get out because the minute you do, it's rabbit season. But we have not settled our differences. And you can bet that I will tell everyone exactly what to expect from you.
That's our deal. [ Not much of a deal at all, but then, Skye's never been the type to negotiate with terrorists where she can help it. It's not as if he has a gun to someone's head, like Mike did. ]
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This is a much colder Skye.
It hurts.]
I'm offering you what amounted to a truce. Based on this place and this situation.
Remember that later.
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[ It's easy to be smug when she has the high ground, when he's weak and injured. If it came down to a fight and he weren't, she's pretty sure she wouldn't get out of it unless he let her. Agent 33 was proof of that—not to mention this newfound inability to control herself. ]
How'd you expect this to go, Ward? [ Her gaze narrows and she leans in like she's genuinely interested, but there's a sarcastic edge of mockery to her voice and the set of her jaw. ] You'd present a truce, we'd pal around, and get back to training like the old days? Pretend you'd never lied? Pretend that even a moment of that was real? Is that what Raina convinced you would happen?
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[ Cut him down. She's trying to be ruthless because she let him see her weak and terrified. She has to make up for that. Has to winnow her own weakness and compassion out because it's wasted on him. ]
You're not the only monster crawling these halls, but you and the Nogitsune are chump change next to whoever got us here.
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Like the ghosts?
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She catches herself, talking shop. Speaking of paling around. Her expression curdles unmistakably, but she suffers through it. Two reasons: 1.) he's HYDRA, which makes him a useful asset that Coulson would have kept around for intel if he hadn't been more useful to trade, 2.) Skye's not in a position to cut off her nose to spite her face right now. ]
As far as we can tell so far, it's like the Stanford Prison Experiment meets Big Brother. The show, not the 1984 government. They've pulled individuals from worlds that I've never even heard of—chances are, we aren't even on Earth anymore.
Have you ever heard of HYDRA using tech like that?
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No. Dream about it but HYDRA's nowhere near using that kind of ability it sounds...
[His voice trails off] It sounds alien. If you want my honest opinion.
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Now you get why some PSA about you would be a waste of everyone's time.
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[seems only fair. A trade for a trade.] A loki.
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That's what I was told.
[He pauses, taking a moment to rub at the bandages along his side.]
I could theoretically find out more.
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[ Cut out the nazi trash middle management. Skye likes that plan better. ]
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[He snorts.] Scared of Loki?
[He can't really manage to sound mocking about this. He's scared of Loki too. Asgardians in general.]
There's not much else for me specifically to do here. [C'mon Skye what happened to rebuilding trust? He almost types that. almost. He gave her everything, every single solitary thing and she shat on him.
He massages the bandages with a wince.]
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Of course she's scared. She's terrified. But she's also curious. That temple, the Kree, the Diviner. If anyone was going to know more about it ...
And it's not like she's a stranger to using dangerous villains as informants. There's loathing in her eyes as she watches him for a silent moment. ]
I want a name, Ward. Who told you that he's here?
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[He blinks.] I mean it. You're not. He did.
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[ On that note, she terminates the feed.
Still, despite her words, she has every intention of digging into the potential that Loki really is here. On her own terms. Not on Ward's word. He doesn't have anything left to offer her: she has no reason to continue the conversation beyond this point, and it'll help the memo pad on her nightstand stop humming if she hangs up. ]
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Ward isn't sure what this means but goddamnit all to hell she hasn't given him any sort of word.
He can't sleep like this.
He can't think like this and he can't get away. Staring at the feed for a moment longer he drags his hands through his hair one last time before throwing the communicator across the room only to have it land on the dog that was in his suitcase.
Nothing to be done but roll over and stair at the ceiling and pray for another life.]