Chapter 02 – Dangerous
The two of them, Idaho and himself, are mercs, and he's not gonna lie about it, he just pretty much does what he wants, or what he's told (bought) to do, for large sums of money, just so he can waste it later on whatever the Hell he wants.
Fancy a gold watch? Sure, why not? Sports car? He'll take two, the second for when he totals the first. Game of cards? Abso-fucking-lutely. Hookers? No.
Well … there was that one time.
And besides - it was totally Idaho's fault anyway.
The point is - no job is ever off limits. No task is too difficult. Nothing is too scary for him.
So long as the price is right.
Well … except maybe when he has to face Bo-.
No! Now is not the time to be thinking about her of all people.
Bloody she-devil.
Right where was he? Oh right!
The point.
The point is after everything he's seen and done, the people he's met and the people he's fought, it's quite possible that this Agent Ward fellow might just be the most dangerous bloke he's ever met.
And that's saying one Hell of a lot.
So, like Idaho and Izzy, he'd been all prepped and ready to go for their first mission as official SHIELD consultants - Izzy wanted to be a real agent again, he'd even read the mission pack he'd been given and everything!
Well … sort of - Hartley had told him what to expect, but still, that counts right?
It totally does.
It was supposed to be just a little bit of recon, to see if the building was a HYDRA storage facility, but in true to standard 'everything always has to go to shit' style, it had turned into an all-out between SHIELD and the HYDRA forces that had remained - the warehouse had been mostly abandoned, but it was still too crowded for a firefight without causing massive amounts of crossfire and ricochets, so it had to be a fistfight, and that was fine with him, he'd been in dozens of brawls, and expected to be in dozens more, he knew what to expect just fine.
He and Idaho were back to back, looking out for each other, as they lashed out with their preferred brawling style, using their right hooks and low kicks. He saw Hartley doing her thing, fighting two off simultaneously, while she already had one in the floor, out cold.
He was aware of Tripp (it was Tripp wasn't it? - he couldn't remember), snarling in rage as he manhandled another one, with one already unconscious at his feet, still twitching slightly, attempting to crawl away, before he had a knee dropped across his face.
That had to hurt.
The other two women, Skye (or was it Sky?) and May (or was it Ming?), were teamed up, taking on three HYDRA goons between them, flipping through their attackers with difficulty, having trouble predicting each other's steps and movements, causing them to keep bumping into each other as they fought, knocking one another off balance each time they did, but still, they already had three bodies littering the floor around them.
And that's when he saw him.
They'd been working with SHIELD for less than a day, and he barely knew any of the SHIELD agents there (or none of them really), so he had nothing really to judge any of them on, but Hartley seemed to like, or at least respect him, and he had a little girl who he obviously adored and doted on, so he couldn't be too bad, he just didn't get why everyone was avoiding him.
Not that it was any of his business.
The man had introduced himself as SHIELD's senior field agent, responsible for overseeing all training. So based on that, and at the very least, he expected the man to be good for a fight.
He was not disappointed.
There was a small pile of bodies already littering the floor near him, as he continued to engage anyone who was stupid enough to go near him.
He lashed put with another right hook of his own, clearing the viewing space between them as he watched another fool attempt to take out the specialist alone, only to be dispatched quite effectively.
It was quite fascinating actually - to watch the way he fought - there was no wasted movement in his actions. He pulled back, watching, waiting for the right moment to strike, the best opportunity to cause maximum damage with minimal effort.
He stepped back slightly, letting his latest attacker overstep on his attack, and fall off balance, before striking out, the palm of his hand colliding with the side of his attacker's head, slamming it against the nearest surface - which was whatever the tarp behind him was covering (it sounded solid) - before he pulled back his hand back, letting his opponent slump to the floor, as unconscious as the rest of his buddies.
His attention was pulled away from Ward by another HYDRA goon trying to get the drop on him.
Hah!
He might be some combat machine designed to destroy whatever was put in front of him, but he had been an SAS soldier for years - a member of the world's most elite fighting force, masters in combat and stealth tactics - he wouldn't go down so easily. He'd trained with SHIELD's Mockingbird, even met and taken a few pointers from The Hawkeye, he sure as Hell wasn't going to lose here.
He felled his last foe, and turned around triumphantly to see that the others had done the same, and took delight in seeing the same scenario had occurred around the room. Modest piles of bodies littered the room, and he felt a deep feeling of smug satisfaction.
His scan of the room continued as the others moved together, May calling in for their ex-fil team, before his gaze settled on Ward's resting place, where he was leaning against the tarp he'd just used as a weapon. He crossed the few paces to join him, using the space next to him to lean against, and take a breather.
He couldn't not notice the slight shake in the man's hands, and he spotted the blood flecks on his knuckles, which was obviously the source of his discomfort, given that he was clawing at them, though he couldn't exactly be sure why.
He doubted it was the first time he'd had blood on his hands, being one of the old SHIELD's premiere field agents.
Wordlessly, he reached down for the nearest HYDRA soldier, before grabbing a dropped knife and slicing out one of his trouser pockets, offering it to the larger man to use as a handkerchief.
He received a muttered "Thanks" as a response, before the specialist began meticulously wiping the blood away, his hands no longer shaking, and he took the moment to observe the bigger man.
His entire demeanour was completely serious, except for when his girl was involved, and every movement he took was calculated, there was no wasted movement in his actions, each bit of sinew and muscle working together perfectly, and with a deadly efficiency.
He remembered the apparent ease with which he'd taken down over the dozen men he'd just fought and resolved right then and there, never to make Grant Ward angry with him.
It takes him a day later to realise it, but he decides it's a resolution that's well made.
They returned to base, to be debriefed before food and rest, after he and Idaho stopped laughing their asses off at Coulson.
The Director had stepped out to greet them as they'd exited the plane, dressed, as he seemingly always was, in a tailored suit and tie.
It was the fact that he had bright, shiny pink hair, and flowers made of glitter, glued onto his cheeks. A sleeping Grace was held in his arms, who was immediately passed off to Ward as he stepped off the rear ramp, his mirth was readable behind his eyes. The older man stilled in the act of passing her over to him, so that he could lock eyes with his specialist, noting the laughter dancing there, before he swept his gaze over the rest of them, and saw the expression mirrored in the rest of his agents' faces.
"Not. One. Word"
"Of course", smirking slightly, the specialist couldn't help but add, "Petal"
That was all it took for the two of them to lose it.
Idaho snorted first, which set both of them off, and before long they were clutching to each other, helping each other to stand. It took a few minutes for them to regain their individual balances, struggling to stand, they finally let go of each other, but kept a case of the giggles going. From the corner of his eye he saw Tripp (yes - he'd definitely heard Skye call him that on the way back) and Izzy grinning madly, while the others all had smirks on their faces.
Skye actually had her head down, using her hair to cover her face.
Smart girl.
The rest of them stepped off the ramp, all of them walking past the slightly red-in-the-face Coulson, as they all moved for the briefing room.
They each took a seat around the meeting table, with Coulson remaining standing at the front, and he snagged the seat directly opposite the man, while Ward stood directly behind him giving May his usual seat, while he lightly swayed with Grace in his arms, trying to keep her asleep until Coulson released them and he could put her to bed.
While the briefing continued, with Coulson still coloured in pink with glittery flower cheeks, Hunter couldn't stop his gaze from wandering over to the side that Ward had moved off to in his swaying, and his eyes sought out the specialist's hands.
They were around his girl, supporting her as he cradled her against his shoulder, one hand under her, supporting her from the bottom as her legs dangled down, while the other went up her back before resting at the back of her head, helping to support her neck.
He just couldn't reconcile the image from a few hours ago - shaky hands meticulously wiping away the blood from his hands - with the sight of the same two hands keeping hold of a little girl like she was a precious gemstone.
Mind you, to him, she was probably a lot more valuable than precious gemstone.
A diamond in the sky.
But the two images just didn't fit together in his head.
He's aware he's staring - and he's also aware that he's not the only one.
If he'd bothered to check, he would've seen Skye openly doing the same, while the others kept trying (and failing) to send him discrete glances, in the hopes he wouldn't notice.
Not for the first time (and he's only been there a day), he wonders exactly what happened to make the others so constantly suspicious of him, why they seem to be torn between hating him and looking at him like they want nothing more than to help with the girl and give him a hug.
Except for May (Ming? - He still hasn't heard anyone say her name), she just ignores him outright.
SHIELD agents, he decides - also not for the first time since he get there (and through his past experience) - need to get their priorities straightened out.
Coulson quickly becomes aware that he's lost his captive audience, and dismisses them, telling them to go and get cleaned up before getting some well-deserved rest.
Ward is the first one out the door, and he wastes no time in following him, catching up to him at the end of the corridor, pulling open one of the doors so that the specialist doesn't have to let go of Grace, the bigger man offers him his thanks as he steps to his left, walking alongside him, Grace in the middle of them, as they made their way towards the father and daughter's adjoining bunks, opening the door for the two of them as they arrived.
He stood there, watching as he moved about his daughter's room in the dark, relying on what seemed like nothing more than his memory of the place, as his feet only touched the floor, where there was nothing to create a noise.
Using the gaps on the floor, the specialist moved to place his daughter in her bed, before crossing the room to her wardrobe, to grab her pyjamas, which were bright pink, and held the image of a princess riding on a pony.
He looked away as the specialist swapped his daughter's clothes, giving them their privacy, before giving them his attention when he saw movement from the bed's covers. He watched on as the supposedly gruff loner, gently tucked his daughter into bed, patting down the covers, and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, before smoothing her hair away from her forehead, smiling at her the entire time.
He remembered watching him fight earlier, and just how deadly he had thought the other man to be. Then he looked the image in front of him, and compared what he had seen.
Fact Number One: Grant Ward was NOT, as some of the others had said, emotionless. No monster could kill and feel remorse … or shame.
Fact Number Two: Grace Ward was very much the apple of her father's eye, and the centre of his universe - he pitied anyone who thought it would bode well for them to get between them.
Fact Number Three: Nearly all of Coulson's senior staff were wary of him - they weren't exactly afraid of him, but it was obvious that something had happened between them, and he was willing to bet that it had involved Ward's baby girl.
Fact Number Four: He and Skye had massive crushes on each other and weren't willing to do anything about it, which was hurting them both. He just couldn't tell if it had anything to do with the thing no one would talk about, or the fact that he was a single dad.
Or both.
It was like he said, these SHIELD agents needed to get their priorities straightened out before he did something about it.
"Owww…"
He trailed off as he was sent to the mat again. Ignoring Izzy's chuckle from where she was stood next to Grace on the side-lines, her and Idaho having already had their 'turns' on the mat, and she had moved to watch to watch the girl do the work she'd been given, while watching on as her father 'trained' them.
He hated training in the morning.
So why did he keep getting up voluntarily?
Earlier that Week
By 'train' them, he meant they'd each taken to the mats, only to have Agent Ward repeatedly put them on their arses without breaking a sweat. To be fair though, Izzy hadn't actually been too bad, she'd been as swift and nimble as ever when they'd started their matches - when he'd beaten her for the first time, she'd demanded a rematch … and then a second and a third - until he and Idaho had to forcibly drag her off the mats, when she was beaten for the fourth time quite soundly (not that they'd tell her that), as Ward got wiser each time to her slight patterns, while every time she thought she had one of his ideas pinned down, he'd change up his own fighting style completely, keeping her off-balance and increasingly frustrated, especially as Grace insisted on clapping every time 'Daddy' won.
The more frustrated she got, the wilder her moves became, and then she became even more frustrated.
A vicious cycle.
And a solid game plan.
Idaho had stepped up to the plate after that, dropping into a fighting stance that immediately showed off his preferred street fighting style mixed with some of the of Muay Thai he'd picked up on the streets over the years. He cracked his neck from side to side, before throwing the specialist a cocky grin, and receiving a raised eyebrow in response.
The raised eyebrow morphed into a small smirk as the specialist moved into a matching position. The other two watched one as their roles were reversed. Now Idaho was the unsure one. Now Ward wore the smirk and Idaho's eyebrows rose in surprise.
Their match was vicious.
Unlike before, when he kept his eyes focused, intent on tracking Hartley's movements, Ward kept a smug expression on his face, maintaining a small grin as he launched into his attacks, slowly pushing Idaho into a rage at the almost carefree expression of glee the specialist wore. A rage which pushed Idaho to begin to fight harder, stronger, and more viciously, forgoing the use of his fists and changing his fighting style to highlight the use of his elbows and knees, intending to cause as much damage as possible, in an attempt to actually damage cause damage to Ward.
Hunter felt worry for the SHIELD agent creep up slightly, and the shifting in her position told him Izzy felt the same.
Grace just sat at the side, maintaining a look of glee on her face as she completely ignored her math work, in favour of cheering on her 'daddy'.
But then, just as it seemed Idaho was about to break him, Ward turned the tide in his favour.
Keeping the smug smirk in face, he returned Idaho's vicious assault with a blank fury, matching him vicious blow for vicious blow. They fought like animals fighting over scraps of meant.
But in the end, which was, in reality, only three minutes later, Ward ended it swiftly and certainly, trapping him in a rear choke hold that caused Idaho to tap out after a few seconds of struggle. It became apparent to them, that in his mind, there was no way he was ever going to lose.
In the back of his own mind, Hunter registered that this was probably the exact same way Ward approached every fight.
He had the mentality of a true soldier – that 'do or die' instinct was ingrained deeply within him, never letting himself even just imagine defeat, because to him, defeat was synonymous with death.
It was the same sort of fighting mentality that the SAS had wanted to ingrain into him.
They hadn't quite managed … his personal mantra continued to be fight or flee - whatever pays better.
So, warily, he stepped on to the mats, feeling as though he'd seen enough from the other man to feel prepared enough for his own sparring match, which he began with sending out an experimental jab.
He found himself promptly flipped over the larger man's shoulder and onto his back.
He hadn't even lasted ten seconds.
He scrambled to his feet, jumping straight back into his fighting position, he readied himself to go again, sending a right hook straight for Ward's jaw, not giving him any time to prepare.
He used his left hand to bat it aside at the last second, causing his knuckles to bounce off his shoulder. The impact spurred him on, as he pushed the slight advantage he'd made for himself, throwing rights and lefts as the specialist brought his hands up to block his face as he was pushed back.
He felt Izzy's raised eyebrows and heard Grace's cheers as they watched on, as he seemed to be winning, before he allowed himself to smirk as he leant into his next punch.
As he leant into the knee Ward slammed into his gut.
His punch met the air over Ward's shoulder, and he felt the air rush out of his lungs, as bile leapt from his stomach and into his mouth, dripping past his lips and onto the mat.
He was aware of Izzy and Idaho pulling him up to his feet, and guiding him to a chair, where he continued to heave and wheeze until his stomach settled, and his breath returned to his body. He was grateful when he felt his lungs begin to expand properly, filling his lungs with fresh air once again.
"You okay?"
Still breathing heavily, he looked up to where his opponent was standing, a mixture of slight concern and amusement flitting across his face.
"Yeah", he took a few breaths to steady himself, "I'll be fine … just give me a minute"
The specialist regarded him coolly, flicking his glance to the other three, "You all did fine. We're done here for the day. May trains in here between six thirty and eight. I'd advise not being in here before then, other than that you're free to use the gym whenever you please. I also advise you each train daily if you plan on being full-time field agents, but that's not mandatory. You're all welcome to use me for additional training if you want it"
"Wait … what?" Hartley looked up at the man in disbelief, "You just wiped the floor with us!"
He smirked in reply, "I know", before his face settled into neutral as his little girl stepped next to him and he placed a hand on her shoulder, "you finish your work yet baby girl?"
When she shook her head in response, he responded by rolling his eyes, "Come on, let's go get it finished"
The trio looked on as the father-daughter duo crossed the room, pausing only to turn back and face them at the door.
"And you three", he shot them an attempt at a smile, "welcome to SHIELD"
Author's Notes
A bit of an outsider's viewpoint, as we see and hear from Hunter only in this chapter.
Interesting for me, as I've never written for him before, and I'm interested to know hat you guys thought of it.
And as always, please leave me some feedback below.
-MarvelMatt
