"Who's clothes are these?" Grant asked holding a worn out t-shirt in his hands.

"Yours," Leo said digging through drawers. "Coulson stored all of your effects in the warehouse."

"Why?"

"Skye asked him to," Fitz stated blankly loading up mission kits. Leo looked up at Grant and for a minute he was the old Fitz. The one with a soft expression and an empty gaze when he got really focused on something and he didn't really look at you, but over your shoulder like he saw something you didn't. "She loves you, that's why she hates you as much as she does."

"I've talked to Skye," Grant said pulling on the t-shirt. "She doesn't love me. She hates me and she has every right to."

"Well, you've only seen the Agent Skye Avery side of her," Fitz said pulling on a backpack. He grabbed a gun out of a cabinet and inserted a fresh mag. with a click.

"Are you cleared to use that?" Grant asked.

"Nope," Leo replied. "But neither are you. Desperate times call for desperate measures."

Fitz slid a fully loaded gun across the table in Grant's direction slowly and never taking his eyes off of him. He was putting an awful lot of trust in him and he could try to kill him. Out of spite for what Fitz had done to him only weeks before or to fulfill the order Garrett gave him that he had several months to mull over.

But Grant didn't aim it at the younger man or even remove the safety. Instead he slid it into his waistband like he was still the Grant Ward that had been a member of his team. The one who took care of him on that mission almost a year before. Like he hadn't lied to them or murdered all those people.

"Let's go," Fitz said.

"Where are we going," Ward asked.

"Bolivia," Fitz replied pocketing his phone. "Can you drive a jet?"

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

They couldn't believe it when they saw him. As far as they knew, he was locked up in some SHIELD correctional facility. So when he walked right up to the front door of the seemingly abandoned science building, the men sitting in the security desk couldn't even press the button to open the door.

"Are you going to let me in?" Grant asked irritably. Fitz stood quietly with his head down, his hands bound in chains, guilt etched into his features.

The two men in the security hall stumbled around the room suddenly unable to move fast enough. Eventually, the door slid open and Ward led Leo in roughly. He was met in the entrance by a couple of heavily armed Hydra agents.

"Welcome back, captain," they greeted.

"It's good to be back," Grant smiled. "I've got one more SHIELD nerd to lock up with Coulson's team."

"We can take him off of your hands," the two agents offered.

"No," Grant said. "I'll take care of this myself. What cell block are they in?"

"Cell block six."

Grant nodded his head and dragged a silent Fitz down the winding hallways, past disbelieving agents. Though some believed he was still locked in that facility, word had gotten around that a certain lab technician had taken an attempt at his life. It was hard to believe that Ward was walking down the hallway, let alone with the man that tried to kill him.

Grant continued down the hallway, into the corridors with dimming lights and mold growing from the leaking roof. He pressed his thumb to the security system pad and the door clicked open. Fitz in tow, he walked in the room trying to muster the coldest smile he could. He unbound Leo's hands and shoved him into the dank little cell.

Grant tried not to look in, tried not to see the members of his old team starving and freezing inside the cage. But he did. He saw Tripp looking puny and on the brink of dying in the corner, blood pooling on the grimy cement floor beneath him. May, lines of concentration furrowed in her brow, blotted at Tripp's forehead gently with a piece of cloth that appeared to be torn off of Coulson's suit. Coulson sat in the corner with his head in his hands. Grant knew that little tick meant he was blaming the captivity of his team on himself. Two new members of the team, who's names he didn't know sat with Skye between them.

Skye. She looked bloody and beaten. Even though the cell was humid, she was shivering, rocking back and forth with her knees hugged to her chest. There was a wild look in her eyes and when she looked up at him, it was like she looked through him. Like she had just snapped like a toothpick.

Without a word, Grant slammed the door closed and stalked back up the corridors.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

"What did you do?" Hunter shouted angrily at Fitz.

"Just wait," Fitz assured. "I have a plan."

"You have a plan!" Hunter exclaimed. "You're bloody trapped as all the rest of us."

Fitz smiled to himself sliding down the wall, pulling his legs to his chest. He pulled a walkie talkie out of his pocket and tuned it to radio channel seven and waited.

"Fitz," Coulson asked. "What is that?"

"A walkie-talkie," he said.

"Why do you have it?" May pressed.

"You'll see."