Disclaimer: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. is the property of Marvel
A Father's Love
By Bissek
Grant Ward, once an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and once a follower of John Garret, the Clairvoyant, settled himself in the quarters he had been assigned after entering the service Dr Whitehall. He had just finished unpacking the duffel bag which contained all of his worldly possessions when there was a knock at the door. Opening it, Grant saw a man with horribly disheveled hair in a suit waiting on the other side.
"I'm Cal," The man introduced himself. "Raina said that you're one of the people who knows my daughter."
Ah, this was the person that Grant had promised to introduce his former pupil to. Grant stepped aside to invite the man in.
"So you're Skye's father?" He asked politely.
"THAT'S NOT HER NAME!" Cal snapped angrily and reflexively. The furious expression on his face made Grant very, very willing to believe Raina's story about how he had singlehandledly tracked down and butchered an entire S.H.I.E.L.D. task force, one by one twenty-five years previously.
"Would you rather I called her Mary?" He inquired.
Cal's face turned from anger to confusion. "Why would you call her Mary?"
"That was the name that the orphanage that raised your daughter gave her. Sk-Your daughter never liked the name, which is why she calls herself Skye," Grant hurriedly raised his hands in a non-threatening manner in a silent request that Cal not spontaneously flip out again over the name. "It took a great deal of effort to learn that name. She'd buried all the evidence of it pretty deeply."
"That's not her name either." Cal pointed out, thankfully in a relatively calm manner. Then his manner suddenly changed to be friendly and cheerful. "So tell me, how did you come to meet my daughter?"
And so Grant started telling Cal the story of how he and Coulson had arrested his daughter for hacking restricted data feeds and recruited her for S.H.I.E.L.D.. From there he went on to tell him of the various cases that his daughter had helped S.H.I.E.L.D. resolve. While the story-telling was hampered by the need to not use Skye's chosen name to avoid triggering another incident, the time passed quickly. And then Grant got to the incident in Italy.
"S... She was shot?" Cal's voice was fraught with horror, then he switched to pure fury. "Who did that to her? Who?"
"It was Quinn," Grant informed him hurriedly. "Ian Quinn. Don't worry, your daughter survived. Coulson arranged for her to undergo an experimental medical procedure that saved her life. She made a full recovery after a few weeks."
"Right. Let's not lose our heads." Cal said, clearly trying to calm himself down. "What happened to Quinn? Where is he now?"
"He was arrested for trying to kill your daughter, but escaped after HYDRA came out into the open. He was last seen after the Cybertek incident six months ago. I don't know where he went after that."
"I'll find him." Cal said firmly. A shadow of the rage he had shown earlier was clearly visibly in his eye, and Grant silently prayed that the man never learned that Quinn had mortally wounded Skye on the orders of his own mentor. "He nearly killed my Daisy, and for that I will rip him apart."
Several weeks later...
Ian Quinn walked down the hall of the convention center. After the fiasco at Cybertek, all the accounts that had been unfrozen because they were clearly the result of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s 'unjustified persecution' of him had promptly refrozen by the United States government. He had been forced to seek sanctuary in Russia, which had a history of denying extradition requests to annoy America when it suited them. Which was why he was now attending this symposium in St. Petersburg, trying to drum up a new batch of investors for his research into Gravitonium.
Checking his watch, Ian saw that he had fifteen minutes until his next presentation. Turning down a side corridor, he headed towards the nearest restroom. Shortly after he entered, a second man followed. Once the two of them had finished their business, the second man addressed him.
"Ian Quinn? I came to the symposium in the hopes of meeting you." He asked. Ian turned and saw a man who had tried but clearly failed to get his hair under control. He wore a nametag on his suit reading 'Dr C. Zabo'.
"Dr. Zabo," Ian said, taking the man's hand. "It's always nice to know that someone appreciates one's work."
"Oh yes, I'm especially interested in some work you did last year in Italy."
Italy? Ian hadn't run any major project in Italy the year before. In fact, the only time he'd ever been there in the past year was when he was doing that job for the Clairvoyant. Ian suddenly realized he really wanted to be somewhere else right now.
"Especially the part where you shot and nearly killed a girl," Dr. Zabo continued, his tone and manner growing more hostile.
Ian tried to edge his way around the other man. "Whatever you heard about me, it was clearly something that S.H.I.E.L.D. made up as part of their unlawful prosecution of me. I ne-" The rest of what Ian was trying to say was cut off as Dr. Zabo drove his hand into his abdomen. Literally into it.
"That girl was my daughter." The doctor snarled, his face twisted with insane rage.
Ian screamed as he felt Dr. Zabo's fingers curl around his internal organs and fiercely yank outwards. He tried to fight the man off, but he barely had the strength to grab onto the man's lapel before the doctor drove his hand in again. Again the fingers grabbed and twisted and ripped. Ian's knees buckled and he collapsed to the restroom floor.
Dr. Zabo's face changed from homicidal to genial as if someone had flipped a switch. "There. I think you've learned your lesson now, don't you. You're never going to hurt my Daisy again, are you?"
Ian was too busy writhing in pain to response. The last thing he ever saw was his killer cheerfully humming "A Bicycle Built For Two" as he washed the blood and viscera off his hands and walked out of the room.
Two days later...
Skye flipped through one of the magazines that Bobbi had provided her for what was probably the twentieth time. One more day. One more day and she would be allowed to leave the quarantine cell. She was seriously going stir-crazy with being cooped up in this plastic cube for days on end. Her boredom was interrupted by Bobbi walking into the room holding a printout of something.
"Hello, Skye," Bobbi greeted her, "Director Coulson said that you might want to see this." She placed the printout in the transfer drawer. Skye eagerly grabbed the piece of fresh reading material.
Fugitive Industrialist Found Dead
Ian Quinn, the billionaire industrialist wanted in connection
with the Cybertek/HYDRA scandal last year, was found dead
and believed murdered in St. Petersburg yesterday. He had
been disemboweled by an unknown weapon and left to bleed
out in a public restroom. The only known clue is a nametag
clutched in his hand, with the name 'Dr. C. Zabo' written on it.
The Russian police are looking for any information on this
Doctor Zabo and his whereabouts.
Ian Quinn is best known for...
Skye put the paper down. She knew exactly who this Doctor Zabo was, and resolved that when the time came to edit her personnel file to give herself a last name, she wouldn't be using his. She'd much rather use an utterly generic surname, like Johnson or something, than announce to the world that she was related to that bipolar madman.
"When the parents of normal people decide to embarrass their kids, they do things like break out the baby pictures or tell humiliating stories about things that the kids would rather forget." She announced, wincing a little as she saw her cup starting to shake slightly. "What does my father do? He tracks down someone I'd rather not think about and rips his guts out in the men's room."
"Skye, you're not a normal person," Bobbi pointed out. Skye froze. Had she noticed the shaking cup? Did she suspect? "You're an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D."
A/N: Given Cal's behavior on the show so far, I'd say that he probably would do something like that to anyone who deliberately hurt his daughter, and the only reason why he hasn't killed Quinn is because nobody's told him what he did to her.
