Ward is absolutely terrified.

He's not sure what over, honestly; it's either the fact that half the team were in a goddamn crash (he's seen Skye's limp, can feel his teeth practically creak as his jaw tightens at the sight) or the fact he was panicked about them in the first place.

See, that? That's why he liked working solo. He's lost people before.

He told Skye about his brothers, yes, but he didn't tell her the full story, couldn't find the words for 'He died, and I focus on work, don't connect with people because that hurt and I can't do that again'.

Well, okay; he can find the words, but can't say them, can't work past the lump in his throat and tell these people that he can't be nice, can't be friendly because he cares, cares far too much and caring leads nowhere but pain, alcohol and hospitalizing abusive family members who go a little too far, even for them.

When it's all over, when he's laid in his bunk, staring at the ceiling because all he can think about is dragging an unconscious Fitz-Simmons from the back of the van, helping Coulson get an equally unconscious Skye out the driver's seat, staring at the looks-worse-than-it-is twisted ankle.

And he knows, knows that he's already lost this fight.

Because he can try to act uncaring, that he only worries about them on a 'you fucking up puts everyone else in danger' level, but it won't change the fact that at the end of the mission, he'll still be laying here, staring at the ceiling, wishing Skye's robot jokes were actually true.