AuthorNote

So it turns out I was wrong - this chapter gets a note too.
Newer content coming out in this one. Making it up as I go.

Thank you for the reviews.

Three days later it happened. The only real surprise that it took that long.

The noise alerted Ward to his visitor. Skye had come, a few days prior, to talk with him after Fitz and Coulson. He knew then it was her because Skye was sneaky, her foot falls soft on the stairs, as she crept up on a person. It was of course different from Coulson who after years of training appeared like a ghost out of thin air. Not even Ward, with years of field operations training, felt he could be as quiet as the senior officer. Probably something about how SHIELD training functioned 'back in the day' as Garrett would often put it. Apparently training had been an entirely different matter then. The sound from the stairwell was a shuffle and too heavy footfalls.

"Welcome back, Fitz."

Briefly Ward considered staying on the cot, on his side, facing the wall and away from his visitor. It did not really seem fruitful to stare and give the apparently timid (timid now, but since when) scientist a reason to panic again. Self-preservation was an optimal concern - Fitz had tried to kill him last time he made the Scot uncomfortable enough. Ward only made the decision to roll off the bed to his feet and approach the glass when the viewing chair scraped across the floor. His suspicions were confirmed quickly as Fitz, red in the face and both hands curled vice tight around a bottle of Bud Lite, sat and faced him. The drinking was new. Ward fixed the bottle with a look that transitioned from it to Fitz's face and back to the alcohol. Since when did he drink? Not that the other has especially seem opposed to it, he did after all have a celebratory drink with the team once or twice, but never to excess. Fitz never reached a point where he looked well...drunk. Then again who knew how far Simmons influence went with her 'one-fruity-martini' cut-off policy.

"Since when do you drink?"

Fitz, already flushed to an incredible degree, went even redder as clutched the bottle even tighter. Ward, honestly, was surprised the thing had not shattered. "I'm drin...drinking to celebrate. We, no, I, I did something today." The scot raised the bottle towards his mouth but then looked at Ward's face, where the ex-agent could feel his own frown, and lowered it back into his lap, rolled it back and forth, then put it on the floor. "I should...I probably… Hunter does like to drink." His hands, now empty, were fidgeting; pushing at his pants, tugging on his sleeves, and it appeared to Ward as if it took real effort for the scientist to hook them under his arms and hold. That probably had something to do with the tremors. Fitz, probably unaware of his own state, nearly vibrated.

Ward sighed and took a step closer to the glass, still closer to his cot than the fore, and dropped indian-style on the floor with hands loose on his knees. Settling in as it were - he was surprised enough that Fitz made it down the stairs without falling much less would be going back up.

"So what are you celebrating?"

Fitz's opened his mouth and closed, open and closed, and a sound came out of what could be a word but never actually materialized as one. The vibration turned into a full tremor and Ward could see, plain as day, every emotion that crossed Fitz face. Not that they had eye contact. Fitz seemed dedicated staring at a corner of the room with his mouth slightly agape. How much had he drank?

"Fitz, it's fine if you tell me. I'm locked in a box and Coulson is probably watching us."

The Scot turned from the empty corner and shook his head sharply as Ward, "Coulson's not here right now. He...he's somewhere with May. Skye won't. She never looks." A simply stated fact that kind of stung at Ward, Skye not even bothering anymore, but he could not really blame her, he supposed. Instead he pushed the slight aside and leaned forward with more weight on his elbows and a slight hunch, head in his palm, watching at the inebriated scientist. Fitz kept looking back at the corner then at Ward, corner, Ward, corner, Ward, and try to see as he might there was absolutely nothing in that somewhat dusty corner that Ward himself could see of note.

"Do any of them know you're here?"

Another head shake, "No. I didn't tell anyone."

Ward nodded, accepting that, it did not surprise him. Coulson would never have allowed Fitz to come back down here if he were even near this complex. Then again Coulson had probably also changed the electronic door so for the other man to even be down here, "Fitz, did you break the security on my cell when you can barely even stand?" That flush deepened, a blatant admission of guilt, and Fitz was once again wringing a hand into the material of his sleeve. His condition - not meaning the drinking - made it a bit hard for Ward to actually read the other as easily as before actually. The fidgeting was not exactly new. All the self-comfort gestures? Difficult. Could have been guilt at breaking into the room or worry that he would get caught. Not that it made sense, really, since Fitz had to know someone would figure out what he had done by simply watching the camera footage. Coulson had admitted to watching their last interaction. This one would be no different and so Ward could expect another visit from a probably livid S.O. soon…

"Yes...Yeah...I yeah...I manipulated the security and the feed and the camera loops and Coulson got really mad last time so I need him to not...to not…" Fitz snapped at the air two to three times, Ward's brow went up, and the scientist went increasingly red faced as he...struggled?

"You need him to not find out."

A nod, "Right. That. He needs to not find out."

"So…" Ward was not sure what to say to that. Fitz's return surprised him somewhat enough without finding out his security detail had been disabled. Tentatively a part of his brain wondered if Fitz could disable the electronic locks on his cage but Ward, surprising himself, squashed that thought process down mercilessly. It was not as if he had anywhere to really be right now and SHIELD security detail was as good a place as any. At least in this position he was allowed to help to a highly limited capacity and kept himself busy. Escape attempts out of mind, Ward worked his face into a smile, a facial expression that he did not have to even really strive for.

He already had been to his surprise.

"So, you broke into my cell and turned off the camera. How are things then, Fitz?"

Fitz's feet pressed against the floor hard enough to slide the chair back an inch, "Just because I…" More snapping, an aggravated expression, Ward waited patiently. "Disabled. I disabled the camera and door. That's it. Nothing else. So you can't like...go anywhere. But I...I...I just…"

"Don't worry Fitz, I'm just going to sit here. You wanted to what? Talk?"

The seated scientist shook his head, looked back at his corner (Ward still could not figure out why. Had they installed a new camera there?) before apparently reconsidering and nodding. "Yes. Talk. I erm...I wanted to talk. About what you said last time. You said you were trying to save us. Do you really believe that? That...that's just an excuse you know. There was no way you could have known." It all came out quick, more an avalanche of words than actual sentences, and Ward had to take a moment to piece it all together even after he stopped. Fitz, after his mouth snapped shut, was breathing heavy and looking to his side, not the usual corner. The looking away should have annoyed him but instead the ex-agent started to wonder if maybe he should be concerned.

Ward sighed, "I meant it. No excuses for what I did Fitz but I had to work with what I had. If I had refused there is no telling what Garrett would have done." The 'to you and Simmons' went unspoken as did Ward's own personal 'to me'. A few particularly grim ideas of what exactly Garrett would have done played across his mind now as they did then. It had been a mercy, he believed it then and now, still, faced with the consequences of what that decision had wrought, Ward was still convinced he made the correct call, "All I had was the hope that when I dropped you two your combined genius would find a way out. Which...I see it did. Not how I hoped but-"

Fitz shook his head violently and Ward stopped speaking altogether.

"Don't… Please… Don't make excuses."

Ward resisted the urge to shake his own head and stayed stock still. "It's not an excuse."

"Yes, it is. You had no way of knowing if we really could find a way out."

Ward laughed, completely inappropriate and wrongly timed and Fitz looked up so sharply he probably got whiplash. Looked up, his face striken, as if the Scot could not believe he found any of this funny. Quickly, before the other ran away again, Ward raised both his hands in a pose of surrender and stopped, his chest still shaking slightly. It wasn't that funny but after so long spent by himself most things were starting to seem that way, "No, Fitz, I'm sorry. I'm not laughing at you or what happened, I swear. Just, have you never actually listened to yourself and Simmons go at it? Between you two I'm surprised cancer has not been cured and world hunger ended." The other was silent as Ward finished speaking, his face still scandalized, and Ward felt like he should have looked away but didn't. "I swear Fitz, nothing is funny about how it went. But you-"

"We cured it."

Fitz had not ran, good sign, "Cured what?"

"Cancer. We cured it. Well, Jemma did. I built the...the...machine that makes things go."

Ward moved about so his chin rested on his knuckles, elbow to his knee, and looked at the other with his trademark smirk. Apparently his episode had not ran the other off just yet, "An engine?"

"No. Not an engine. I know what an engine...it is...umm...that thing that takes. Mechanical."

"A delivery mechanism?"

Fitz snapped the air as Ward noted that his beard scratched at his knuckles; he needed a shave.

"Right. That, a delivery mechanism. Thank you. I built it but SHIELD acquisitioned our research."

"So you mean to tell me the two of you cured cancer and what, no one gets to know?" Fitz nodded quickly and pulled his legs up into the chair, curled up before him, getting comfortable. Something inside of Ward approved at that - most likely the part of him that had been locked up without any human contact for what seemed like ages. He was surprised no one had arrived to drag away the wayward scientist from the dangerous prisoner yet. How understaffed were they?

He continued, "So what, you two cure cancer and it gets classified to what, Level Seven and up?"

"Eight, actually. If I remember right. I...I wasn't supposed to talk about it."

"Ah," Ward could see that. It certainly seemed the MO of SHIELD to classify something like that. Not that Ward himself really cared much about the greater world impact. The only thing his mind went to was the uses of a cure like that. Political adversaries sick or with sick family members? Easily controlled. Allies? Cured. It made sense from a technical perspective to keep such information within the organization to allow it the most influencing power. That had to be the world of Hand or Fury himself, maybe Hill, the woman seemed politically minded enough to manage sleep at night with something like that hanging over her head. Ward was a bit surprised that Fitz did not seem more bothered by it. Simmons, wherever she was, likely took some issue with it. Then again after some of the redacted reports Ward himself had to work on while with the team, it hardly seemed surprising that the two scientists were used to their research being locked up.

A moment stretched between them as Fitz apparently battled with what he could-not-say and Ward just had-nothing-to-say. The scientist was back in his corner and Ward, his eyes locked on the side of the other's face, resisted the urge to move at all. As of late anytime he actually left the bed involved exercising or attempting to talk to a bitter and enraged Skye. Thoughts about the scientists perceived lack-of-a-relationship with his closest female friend aside, Ward did not suspect the other would appreciate talking while the prisoner did thousand push-ups to kill time.

When Fitz finally did speak it was to his corner and ghost quiet, "I don't want to."

"What?"

Fitz jumped, as if Ward had caught him in the act of breaking some rule, and flushed as both hands wrung together behind his drawn up knees. WIth how much he moved about Ward was a little surprised the chair had not tipped over yet. That would be great to explain; a concussed scientist in his cell. May would probably throw him in front of a firing squad or just do it herself.

"Fitz … why are you here?"

He didn't answer right away and looked down at his hands. When he did finally speak the scientist peeked up at Ward over his knees, barely making eye contact before they darted away again, and a hand ground through the crown of his hair nervously. Everything about it spoke of nerves, "I thought I already said. I'm here to talk. You know, a verbal exchange of...of…"

Ward waved a hand through the air dismissively, "Communication."

"Right, that. Communication. I wanted to communicate. With you. About things."

Things. That would have meant something if Ward had any idea what things the other could mean. WIth most people it was easy. Skye had things to discuss with him but it was always Hydra policy or to generalize a strategy in his direction she would later not trust simply because he had input. Coulson's things were always different but had the universal theme of protecting his team. The one time May had come down her entire thing was to stare at him silently for awhile before calling him trash and leaving. Fitz having things felt like it should have been another matter altogether and left Ward confused, his expression twisted to reflect it, and even though he'd received training to compartmentalize everything and control; this felt awkward suddenly.

"Fitz, you can't just come down here to chat." There it was, Ward knew it was coming as soon as he spoke, that kicked-puppy look that Fitz adopted whenever something brilliant was shot down. This was not brilliant though, this was stupid, and Ward felt the other needed to know that, "Think about it. Coulson will be furious with you for coming back down here. May will glare at you till you die. And Fitz, what do you want to talk about, we're not friends anymore. We can't just sit here and gossip about nothing." He knew that he was being a tad harsh, especially with someone his actions had injured so directly, but Ward needed Fitz to understand this was unacceptable…

"We were."

When had Fitz gotten so mousey with his voice? Ward missed the days he spoke too loud.

"What?"

And there it was, the look, kicked-puppy, the one that reminded Ward of Buddy the dog sometimes, and wasn't that just great to be reminded of the dog you killed by the person you nearly killed. Clearly his issues went a bit deeper than SHIELD had originally expected. Not that it was surprising, he had tried to kill himself shortly after they imprisoned him. Chances are Coulson combed enough of his and Garrett's history to discover just how fucked-up it all was. Probably did not know about the incident with the dog though. SHIELD interrogation had led Ward to believe that yes, there were tapes of his time in the cabin pre-academy, and yes, Coulson had watched them. Maybe Coulson did know. Not enough to make any kind of connection between the resident 'damaged' scientist and lesser known aspects of Ward's past.

Fitz chewed at a nail, a habit Ward had seem Simmons get onto him about, while speaking, "We were. Friends, that is. At one point. Not all that long ago. Well, I was a friend. You were a spy."

"Fitz…you really should not-"

"No, I want to. You were a spy. You betrayed us." The Scot spoke quickly, a rambling pace, and Ward slipped into silence as he was cut off. It...stung a bit to hear it directly from Fitz. It did not, however, prepare him for what came next, "You betrayed me. But, you...you...I know you. At least I think I do. I know the others now, somewhat, like Mack, he's really nice, or Hunter who is always flirting with Skye or playing and never does any work. Ever. Like, he is just here. Around…" Fitz stopped talking by actively placing a hand over his mouth to silence himself. His eyes were wide, locked on Ward, whom was not sure what was going on with his face but knew his expression was not pretty at the moment. The things Fitz were said threw him off. Apparently the scientist took the wrong message because he threw up both hands and waved them in the air, "No. No. Sorry. I should not have said the thing about Hunter and Skye. That was rude. I...I...I know you and her and she is always shooting him down." It was the hardest ramble to decipher Ward had heard yet and took him by surprise. One does not often spare the feelings of their attempted murderer, did they? Least not, sane people. Not that Fitz (or SImmons) for that matter had ever seemed too particularly key in that whole 'sanity' department with the stuper intellects.

"Fitz."

"I'm really sorry, I should not have-"

Ward raised his voice, "FItz! It's okay, stop worrying about it. You should not apologize to me."

"But you and Skye...Skye and you...you two were…"

He sighed and shook his head as Fitz started up again, silencing the scientist, "No, Fitz. Skye and I never. Well, in a way, but the Grant Ward she knew was imagined. She said it herself that she would not like the real me. Honestly, she spoke the truth, I do not think anyone would." Fitz was looking at him in a way that actually made Ward a little uncomfortable, he felt like a microscope had descended on him, and had to resist the urge to look away, "Fitz. See, you don't know me. I'm aware you want to think you did but don't forget how that went. You trusted me and I threw you out of a plane in a box and hurt you." He put emphasis on the word 'hurt' as if the situation were not apparent enough. It felt like his goal had become to get the scientist to leave, to end this personal conversation, to put an end to whatever was going on here. Not that it mattered - Ward was probably already going to regret this conversation in some way later. Maybe May would accidentally forget to deliver food to his lovely quarters or something; again.

"Look, you understand right, this is a bad idea for you."

"Ward."

"Nothing is going to come out of acting as if you know…"

"Ward!" Fitz practically yelled over him and that was enough to shut Ward up quickly, his jaw snapping shut as he leaned back, palms to the floor, adjusting him. "Ward, I know all of that. I know you were a spy. I know you acted with all of us. I know you betrayed us every step of the way. Okay. Fine. I know. But at least I know you already betrayed us and I don't have to worry about it happening again, okay? Stop...Stop talking, okay?" Audible, room volume, angry with him, and it sounded enough like the 'old' Fitz to bring Ward up short on anything else to say as the scientist continued, "Look. I know I should not be down here. I know Coulson will be mad. Skye too. May might kill me. But I...I...I want to come talk to you. I want to understand." And there it was, plain as day to Ward, that he was a project. Another of the 'investigations' that Fitz and Simmons went on both in the field and on the plane. A journey of discovery as she often called it though, in this instance, Ward had no idea what the wayward, strange scientist sought. No idea what he could expect to find by play-acting as if everything were alright between them. Ward knew now that even though he had asked Coulson to see Fitz again, to judge the degree of mental damage for himself, that this entire meeting was likely a mistake and should not have occurred in the first place. Especially not when Fitz sat there, rubbing at his eyes like he was…

Oh no, Fitz actually was crying and wasn't that just the strangest thing of all.

"Fitz, stop. You don't...Don't cry because of me. Please. I don't know what…"

"it's fine." It did not look like it with Fitz scrubbing at his face with the long flannel sleeves of his skirt, knees drawn even closer to his body, and he looked so small in the chair tear faced and probably still drunk that Ward felt...well...like a monster. Then again according to all technical definition and by how his old team felt about him - that definition was not the furthest thing from the truth. The ex-agent wanted to reach out and pat the teary eyed scientist on the shoulder, something, anything to calm him down, but with the glass between them all he could do was shuffle forward closer to the glass. It was strange - a position Ward had never expected to find himself - kneeled on his knees mere feet from Fitz. Apparently his intention went across because Fitz, watching him warily, nodded and smiled. It was the first sile Ward had seen since the scientist wandered into his cell the first time and it damn near managed to get Ward to smile back before he remembered his current mission of talking FItz out of this behaviour. It took a minute for Fitz to stop and during that time Ward did nothing but watch, a silent observer, thouh he was trying to figure out what to say and nothing was coming. A crying man shorted him out.

"Sorry," If Ward had not seen Fitz crying his voice would have been a dead give-away, "That happens sometimes. Not often. Just...sometimes. It feels like everything is just," More snapping, jabbing at the air really, as Fitz struggled and Ward did not help this time, "Bubbles. It all just bubbles up inside of me and I can't figure out what to do with it. You know I'd never cry over anything," Untrue, Ward was sure, as he figured Fitz seemed like an emotional enough guy that he probably cried at quite a few sad things really. Sad, like their lives probably, "but I just can't control it. One moment I'll be fine and the next I'll be mad, or crying, or throwing things. I'm so tired of apologizing for it but no one understands and they always get the wrong idea. Always."

"I'm not sure how. It seems pretty easy to understand to me." Ward flinched, how had those words gotten out of his mouth before he caught them? Agitated now he drummed his fingers on his own knee, a nervous habit Garrett would have berated him for, while speaking, "I mean, they are your team Fitz. Of course they are going to worry about you when those things happen." Well, that was not any better, and Ward knew he should just shut up and go back to the cot until the scientist left but his damn mouth seemed ahead of his mind, probably the guilt factor, "At least you can show your emotions. I, sometimes, am not even sure what mine really are. Too many cover stories and lies. To be honest it feels kind of good to actually not have a front for once." and wasn't that just the nail in the head. Ward sighed in defeat, mostly at himself, and let his face fall into an open and waiting palm. How, after weeks of captivity after being grilled by SHIELDs best remaining non-Garrett interrogators that was a skinny, drunk, depressed scientist crying in front of his cage managing to bring more words out of his mouth than even Skye did.

Clearly he was slipping.

"...Thank you."

Ward lifted his head and stared down Fitz who suddenly looked even more nervous, "What?"

"I...Thank you, Ward. I'm...glad...I'm glad you finally get to be yourself."

And if the tears before had been a wrench in his gears this was a cannon ball through the walls.

"Fitz, what are you…"

The scientist shook his head and moved to stand, head rolling on his shoulders as he worked out the kinks from his position. The shaking had abated at some point in their conversation and the Scot looked a lot steadier on his feet than he had entering the prison. He almost knocked over the beer bottle left forgotten at his feet but Ward pointed at it, Fitz looked down at it, then picked it up and smiled at Ward as if he had done the other some great favor by helping him not spill it.

Internal alarms were going off in Ward's mind at the highest possible decibel and he did not know what to do about it. The usual response was run-or-kill and he could not exactly run away from a closed off SHIELD cell. He could not kill Fitz either - not that he could imagine wanting to. If he had not managed to do it with direct orders from Garrett then it was highly unlikely he ever could.

"Fitz."

"I...I...I have to go. They'll be back soon. They might already be."

A pause, Fitz stared down and shuffled his feet like his legs had gone asleep in the chair.

"I'll try to come again."

Ward, now that Fitz was standing, had risen up to stand himself and took a step closer to the class. He did not reach out and touch it or anything like that. No, he stood there, arms straight at his sides, watching the very possibly truly mad scientist make promises he should not be.

"Don't come back Fitz."

"I want to...and not like you can really stop me."

"I could tell Coulson."

Fitz looked up at him like that and there, again, were the sad eyes. The ones that punched straight into Ward in a way that Coulson's disgust and Skye's hate did not ever see to. "You won't tell Coulson. At least...I hope you won't. Don't tell him Ward, please.", and it was such a simple word 'please'. asked of him by someone he had possibly damaged for life that had Ward nod. He nodded his consent for Fitz to come back and, realizing what he had done, slapped a hand to his face. His eyes were closed or he would have seen Fitz give him a tiny, sad smile.

"Bye, Ward."

Fitz, despite his previous state coming down, practically dashed up the stairs while Ward turned away and dropped face first down on his cot. Too much, all at once. The ex-agent's brain worked overtime to try and negotiate what had just happened - how he got steamrolled by a skinny awkward scientist who apparently wanted to be his friend. For whatever reason. Earlier in their conversation Ward had considered that maybe this entire affair was one convoluted plot by Coulson to elicit more information and compliance from him but no, it was not the man's style, and considering Fitz's condition the team would not have allowed him to be subjected to a plot of that nature. Verdict? One of his many victims, though one of the few survivors, wanted to … get to know him. As a person. Now that his cover was blown and the mask had been removed.

It was just the kind of nonsense he should have expected from any given member of this team.

Author Note

So I just watched more episodes of Season 2.
Yeah, this story is about to get really canon divergent real fast.
But let me watch more and cause 2.6 just curveballed me hard.