Author Notes
Well. I watched more of the show. Yeah, that's not helping me case at all.
Strong canon divergence starting up right here and now kthx.
Fitz felt like a liar. Not that Ward probably minded - he said to 'not come back' after-all. Still, he had promised Ward he would return and now over two weeks later that promise had still not been delivered. Not that Fitz had not tried. It should have been easy. They were all accustomed to the scientist roaming around at all hours of the night in his lab. 'Oh, Fitz is still awake? He'll be fine.', and all that. Really it had been easy for him to go mostly unnoticed throughout the compound before but now things had changed. After his and Mack's 'valued work partnership' - Hunter's words, not Fitz's - had been commented on enough the two had been nigh inseparable if Mack were not needed in the garage. Not that he had complaints really considering Mack was nice, helpful, and despite his enormous physique managed delicate mechanical calibrations that Fitz's hands would not. Plus they played video games together and having a gamer on board was new. Mack claimed the games would help restore his hand-to-eye coordination and while Fitz had doubts, the suggestion was kind enough that he did not argue. Really though, Mack usually went to sleep at a peculiar early hour when possible, the man was not the issue blocking his way.
No, those honors belonged to two of the ladies in his life, Simmons and Agent May.
May's part in all of it was simple. The one time he tried to sneak across the Playground in the dead of night she had appeared out of nowhere. Near as Fitz could tell she literally emerged from a shadow to step right in his path, fix him with a knowing look, and send him back to the lab. No words, because of course May did not need words, and Fitz had been scared to try again with her anywhere currently within the facility because May seemed to know everything.
So he could not visit Ward when May was around.
Jemma...that was a whole other matter. Fitz was still getting accustomed to having her around again. And...he had no idea what he felt about having her back. Not what, exactly, or when those feelings had started, at what exact point he shifted from 'talking to a figment of Jemma' to snapping and yelling at the real edition. Oh yes, Fitz knew he was particularly hostile towards her presence - he had even before Mack had told him - but something about having her here made it...worse. Made everything worse. Which made no sense because Jemma was his best friend, had been for years, and at one point served as the biological-oriented part of his brain matter. Not anymore. Now Mack had to be his hands at least seventy percent of the time while Jemma at first stayed across the lab, slowly migrating over all the tools she would need, and then eventually quit coming to what was informally known as the 'mechanical' side. The 'mechanical' side and 'biological' side, Fitz didn't like it. He had not liked it back at the academy either. The two of them had bridged that gap and now when Jemma needed help she did not look to him who once had been her go-to, but to the clearly under trained assistant who had been kept in retainer after Coulson dismissed the rest. Fitz kind of hated that woman. No, Chelsea was nice. She asked if he wanted a cuppa whenever she made tea for herself. He didn't hate her. Okay, maybe he did, tea-brewing aside. At least Chelsea never got in his way when he decided to try and visit Ward.
Jemma on the other hand had either conspired with May to keep him away (unlikely, Jemma's response would have been loud and very yelly) or apparently all scientists of their IQ level kept the exact same minimalist sleep schedules. Midnight? He would be looking at plans, thinking of going to see Ward, and Jemma would be across the lab glued to a microscopic analyzer. Both working, neither talking, as was the state of things between them. Noon? Jemma and Chelsea would be working out a series of complex biochemical formulas that placed them at a lab table facing Fitz's work station. That meant he could not slip away. Not that either would really try and stop him but they would wonder and then, when Mack wandered in, they would have him wondering too until eventually Mack set out to find him and Jemma looked...frustrated.
Which she did a lot lately.
Two weeks was a lot of time to not visit someone trapped in a cell by themselves. Even a traitor. Even someone who had hurt him but claimed they did it for his benefit, however that worked really. After the second time he went Fitz had at least three breakdowns over the course of the week luckily in private, to himself, over things he had said the last time. He had sworn to himself that he would not ever go back - thus honoring Ward's request - but then realized he was never good at ultimatums with himself and given up on it. Much like a project Fitz sensed there had been progress last time, progress something he felt lacking in as of late, and so decided to go again...except he could not because the universe was apparently conspiring to keep him away.
Either the universe of May but in order of things he feared - May outranked the Universe.
"Turbo, you alive in there?"
A large hand waved in his face. Dark skin. Huge hand. Mack. Fitz blinked his eyes a few times before focusing them on Mack's smiling face. He had been watching Jemma and Chelsea work on some form of bio-metric testing glove but both of the ladies had vanished while his mind drifted and Fitz was alone in the lab. Well, he had been alone, Mack was here and leaned up on his work station with an elbow. Resting position. That meant something. Oh, right, Mack only did that when Fitz kept him waiting for awhile. Which meant...oh dear, "...I was staring off into space," and as Fitz spoke, Mack lifted an eyebrow and looked at him just incredulously enough to have Fitz worrying at his own sleeve. Unfortunately this was not the first time he had been caught staring at Jemma though, really, Fitz thought they may all have the wrong idea. It may have been the right idea at one point but with the way things had and were going...not anymore.
"Yea...Yes, Yes. I'm alive. Why wouldn't I be?"
Mack rose up to his full height, an accomplished towering, and patted Fitz on the shoulder.
"No idea there Turbo. Those thoughts probably spin too fast for me. Coulson asked for us all to sit in on this briefing though. Figured I'd let you sit it out, know you don't like going all that much, but Coulson sent me to come and get you." Mack's hand remained on his shoulder and the black man had stooped down, getting more on his level, and kept Fitz from going back to staring at Jemma's work station. Of course; she had gone undercover at Hydra for an amount of time he was still not entirely sure on, how could she not get called to a meeting while he had be fetched.
Fitz nodded, "Oh...Okay." and they went, though Mack had to remove his hand at the doorframe and walk behind Fitz the rest of the way. It almost felt like he had a bodyguard - something Fitz would share with no one ever. Mack tended to walk on his right side, a bit behind him and to the side, almost as if he were flanking him. At first it had made Fitz incredibly uncomfortable but the repetitive behavior had started to grow on him. Either that or he had no real choice on where people decided to walk and stand. Probably that one, it was not his place to decide those things.
Wait, "Mack, why did Coulson ask for me specifically at the meeting?" Fitz glanced back over his shoulder when Mack did not respond and got a glimpse of the other man shrugging. That was odd. "Does it...umm...is this something to do with the alien artifact thing. The umm…" The two of the swept past the kitchen and there was Chelsea, brewing tea, waving at them or more specifically waving at Mack who waved back. That made Fitz feel a tiny bit better. At least the hired help did not get to sit in on important meetings unless called either. Not that the lab-tech had ever been in a meeting period that Fitz had seen. Still; the point stood regardless.
They arrived at Coulson's office and as Mack knocked once, announcing them, he threw an evaluating glance Fitz's way and dropped the news, "No, it has something to do with that guy downstairs. Skye's old man or ex or whatever." It was only Mack's hand on the small of his back - when had that even gotten there? - that kept Fitz walking into Coulson's office uninterrupted. Well, physically his walk never stopped, mentally everything ground to a halt. A special meeting about Ward that Fitz had been fetched to attend? This was it. They had finally found out what he did. The whole team was even here, including their newest addition Bobby, the one who saved Jemma and who he meant to thank but could not work up the nerve to talk to. Everyone was looking his way. All of them had varied looks of shock, disgust, or anger, and Fitz was so sure they were all directed at him that he almost forgot to breath and started tugging at his cuff with enough force to nearly rip the sleeve off. The panic did not abate as one by one they looked away from him, back to Coulson, nor even as Mack whispered to him to, "Calm down, you didn't do anything. Everyone's just tense." because he was the reason they were tense. That would all become apparent when Coulson started into him for visiting Ward a second time and May probably just did that weird flippy kick move she liked so much to send him flying out a window.
May's spinny death kick had always been better than a firing squad in terms of execution.
Speaking of, the same two women who had kept him from visiting Ward for so long were the main ones noticing something wrong with him. Everyone else had returned their focus to Coulson who was mid-speech about some politician or other. Politics had been the entire topic of debate ever since the attack on the U.N. and while Fitz could still understand that he could not muster up interest. So he didn't listen and his freak out marched on until Mack dropped a heavy hand between his shoulders, right below his neck, and started rubbing tiny circles. That helped. Jemma's little wave and quick look away did not help. May cocking a single fine brow and looking at him with that cold-yet-so-complex frown did not help. Mack's little circles helped. Felt different but helped. Fitz was not sure what he preferred between Mack's rub-circles and what Ward used to do, a hand on his shoulder that would rhythmically clench and unclench. Supposedly it had been another technique taught to covert ops field operatives just like the lip reading. Once again, Fitz had never seen another agent use the same trick on someone to calm them down, but Ward had been a master of it. Specialist level comfort shoulder squeezer. Just like specialist level Spy. Now was probably not the time to be thinking about Ward as Coulson fixed Fitz with a look, different from the angry look Fitz completely expected, and continued talking about this politician.
"Oh, that guy looks like Ward." Suddenly everyone was looking at Fitz, who had been staring at the projection of the politician's face, and it occurred to him all too late that he had spoken aloud. Again. Without his brain's consent. Damn. Skye at least gave him a little smile and a nod while all the rest just looked his way and quickly back to Coulson. The little circles Mack pushed into his back a bit deeper and Fitz, despite how much he enjoyed it, leaned forward and away so he could actually focus on what was being said. The guy on screen really did resemble Ward. Same angular jaw structure, deep set eyes, though the dimensions of the nose seemed off and that was a suggestion of either physical irregularity between the two or a notice that Ward had likely had his broken and reset many, many, many times as a field agent, maybe even surgeries, oh.
"Right, Fitz, sorry, I should have started over when you and Mack got in." Coulson sounded apologetic but he hadn't started over so Fitz didn't listen. Instead he chewed on a nail and ignored the looks Jemma gave him when she noticed. Not so long ago, before the incident, she would have kicked him in the shin for doing it. Now she shook her head and looked back at the projector as if it had some hidden mystery more important than his bad habits. Oh, Coulson was still talking, "This is Senator Christian Ward of Massachusetts, Grant Ward's older brother. As some of you know," Fitz kind of felt as if it were everyone in the room but him, though Jemma did perk up a little as well - the two had been busy in the lab countering Hydra's new 'disintegrating throwing stars' as Mack put it - already knew all of this, "He has agreed to back us on the UN floor in exchange for a deal I offered him. It'll be a complete reversal of his position, something we need now, and so I jumped on it." Coulson paused and looked at Skye whom stared back, her face hard and set, gone the smile Fitz received earlier, as she nodded to whatever silent or pre-communication the two had. Of course she knew; Skye always seemed to know things.
Coulson looked at Fitz and Jemma next and while she nodded Fitz still did not know what was going on but nodded back anyway, as if he did, because it made the whole process easier to seem to know like everyone else. When Coulson finally did speak though, Fitz felt his mouth drop open in shock, "Later this afternoon we'll be transferring Grant Ward into the custody of his brother to face trial as a Hydra collaborator. Before that, Skye will make use of this time to press him for what information we can get in the deadline…" Fitz did not hear any more of it. He froze, hand locked on his own cuff, and stared at image of the man on screen. Ward's brother. It was the first Fitz had actually seen the man, true, but also the first he had heard of him beyond some files Fitz was fairly certain he was not supposed to read. Stuff about Ward's training in Hydra recovered from Garrett's collection. Things about an abusive home life, some written in Coulson's own hand. So if this were Ward's brother, the abusive one and not the victim one, then that would mean they were handing him over to someone dangerous. Then again, normal people did not barter other people for information or protection or whatever. Oh wait, no, they did, and he was…
"I'd like all field agents on hand when he is escorted out. If he tries anything, I need you ready."
A varied set of "Yes Sir"s and "Sure things"s responded and Fitz, despite not even being a field agent, nodded as if he understood the orders himself. They were to transfer Ward that afternoon after Skye finished with him. So soon, he had not even been able to go back and talk to the man anymore. Now he never would. That was regretful...no, it was terrible. No, Fitz really did not want this, and he especially did not want to face this in front of everyone as his eyes started to water in the middle of a meeting in Coulson's office and he had to wipe at them with his sleeve. People noticed, there was no way they couldn't, and Fitz had his head between his knees and breathing before anyone even knew a panic attack had started. It felt like he had been submerged in water again and distantly, past the ringing that was in his ears but not really in his ears, Fitz knew Mack and Coulson were ordering everyone out of the office while their resident broken scientist took in huge gulps of air and tried to get his breathing back under control with great effort. Before the door slammed, which definitely did not help, Fitz could hear Jemma's quiet voice talking to Coulson. He could not make out what she was saying but he knew, without hearing, that it was about him. Probably about how fragile he was. Jemma liked that word, fragile, and though she meant the best and really cared for him, and Fitz knew it, 'fragile' was close to 'broken'.
The situation was also not helped by them talking over his head.
"Fitz! Mack, what is wrong with him, what brought this one on?"
"Do I look like a damn therapist to you? He got worked up. Give him a moment, sir."
Coulson's voice was raised, Mack's was the same even beat that he always used, and all at once Fitz had the mechanic kneeled before him. With Fitz sitting and hunched the two were at equal height and Mack carefully, slowly, worked to push shoulders back and get him into a sitting position and not a hunched-over-crying position. Not that he helped. Fitz was quite content to hide his face away a bit longer until the spontaneous water stopped or they all left. Not to mention that if he had someone stare right into his face while he uncontrollably cried the scientist felt he would simply die of embarrassment. Ward was the only one who had seen that whole breakdown happen so far and Fitz damn well intended to keep his shame to one person, thanks.
"I knew I should not have brought him in on this considering how he responded before…"
Mack, still trying to pry Fitz's face from his hands, looked at Coulson, "Before, sir?"
'No. No. Coulson don't tell him. Mack is really nice please don't tell him-'
"I can't go into detail but Fitz did not respond well when he first found out we had Grant Ward contained here." Fitz breath a sigh of relief into his hands, pressing harder at his eyes to soak up the last of the moisture, as Coulson peered at his watch, "Mack, I have to be on phone with the senator in three minutes. I'm going to leave Fitz in your care. Would you make sure he is in his room when we transfer the prisoner?" Fitz finally had his eyes dry and peeked up through his hands to realize how close Mack's face was, how concerned he looked, and that he was staring over Fitz's shoulder at Coulson with a look that Fitz could not understand. He only nodded when Coulson added in a quick, "I'd have you stay with him but I'll need you there as well. Ward is highly trained, I'm taking no chances." and the Director slipped out of the room at that.
All of Mack's attention was back on him, red eyes, snotty nosed, utterly embarrassed Leopold Fitz, and try as he might to hide his face Mack pulled his hands away and stared him down.
The dark skinned man looked worried but it was different from the usual expressions. Some people's 'worried" (such as Jemma's) looked sad. Other's like Hunter looked uncomfortable mixed with worried. Mack's expression just looked concerned and try as he might Fitz could not find fault in it. It did not even look pitying and that, above all else, was a monumental thing. It was enough that Fitz went along with it when Mack's heavy arms closed over his shoulders and pulled him closer, his upper chest taut against the mechanics, and Fitz's face sunk into the natural cranny at the man's neck and broad shoulders. Hugging. Hug. Mack was hugging him, tightly, and the other man's face was pressed into Fitz's neck, he knew because Mack had forgotten to shave, and it was so unexpected as to be calming, an extended moment of comfort...until Fitz pressed both of his free hands into Mack's stomach and pushed against oh, rock hard, abs (quite nice really) until the larger man backed up enough to put space between.
Mack's brow furrowed and Fitz immediately felt bad for pushing the man away but...he couldn't, that much contact, it had almost...no, not right now. The analytical scientist struggled to not read into the gesture when right now his interpersonal skills seemed so bugged out anyway. Instead he forced himself to look Mack in the eye and ask directly, "Mack. Why did you hug me?"
"I thought it would help you relax."
The answer came instantly and honestly, Fitz could tell that much, and he nodded, slowly, affirmatively, "Oh. Okay. Well then umm...thank you. It helped." and Fitz tried to smile at the other thought it came out crooked. Mack only shrugged as if to say, 'was worth a try'.
Unfortunately he also had to speak, "What got you so freaked out anyway Turbo? Figured out of everyone except maybe Skye you'd be the most eager to see that bastard go off and fry?"
Fitz could not answer. No, he could, but he couldn't, and that was frustrating but despite the circles and the hugging and all the filling in his blanks, Fitz knew that Mack would not understand why he freaked out. They were moving Ward. Ward, whom Fitz had believed in some small way when the man claimed he was trying to save them, not kill them, when he did this to Fitz. Ward, whom was a good actor but Fitz did not understand how someone could act so flawlessly in a role on all the occasions he did without once breaking cover. On missions is one thing but did Ward really have to play a game of jenga with Fitz one night just because the scientist found the game in a grocery? No. Clearly that was not secret spy action. At least Fitz did not see how it could be. There were so many other examples that sprang to Fitz's mind during his week of freak-out that were front and center now. There was no way it could have all been an act - that was just not possible for any human being to deliver such a constant show. Now they were going to turn him over to his brother without so much as a 'by your leave' and according to what Fitz read this was the same brother who had tortured Ward as a kid. What happened to child torturers who grew up and became adult torturers, did they get worse?
"...Mack, we can't turn him over." He looked confused and Fitz couldn't blame him, especially when Fitz repeated himself, once again saying, "We can't. We can't give him to…" Mack would never understand any of this thought process, no matter how close they got, because he had not been there. Fitz knew this and so was not surprised when Mack's hands on his shoulders tightened and the mechanic shook his head, telling him no, dismissing the thought altogether.
"We have to Turbo. Coulson's orders."
"But…"
"No Turbo. Let the guy's brother deal with him and the justice system take him out. I know what you're thinking, he's not your responsibility. He deceived all of you guys and hurt you too. That doesn't mean you guys have to be the ones to handle his punishment, so long as he's punished."
'No. No. That's all wrong Mack. That's not what I want...that's like...like...the opposite.' For once Fitz's thoughts actually managed to stay in his head as he surrendered, nodding without looking Mack in the eye, and allowing the mechanic to help him up. Mack never would have understood but on some level, deep inside of Fitz, it still hurt to know he really couldn't. Mack, who filled in his words and served as his hands these days, could not help him with this one. Even if Fitz made him understand he knew the other man would not help. No, if anything, he would immediately tell Coulson. Fitz knew what they would all think of him if the thoughts got out. With them already thinking so little of his current condition how much further could he afford for them to go before Coulson was forced to make the hard decision concerning his further employment.
...Fitz was not even sure he could handle life as anything other than a SHIELD scientist.
Their conversation finished, Mack had at first tried to escort Fitz to his room but detoured when Fitz, quite insistently, demanded to be in the lab. The mechanic tried to fight it but he lost at, "Coulson does not understand, the lab will be in...in...greatly, massively," Mack had to fill in the 'infinitely' for him. "Right, infinitely more comfortable for me. Even if they walk him right by me I should be okay so long as I'm in cozy surroundings. Besides, it is not like he'll be able to do anything right? All of you will be there," Fitz felt himself rambling and worked to stop it, to cease talking and talking, because the Fitz that Mack knew did not go on and on and on like that. He couldn't, especially not now, especially not when he was telling lies right through his teeth to the person that had helped him the most in the past few weeks. No, not lies, he was absolutely plotting treason of the highest caliber and after this was done May probably really would kill him. If that was not enough Fitz suspected that Mack would never want anything to do with him again.
It was stupid, foolish, and Fitz knew that he was probably making a mistake...but he could not resist.
Fitz had already cooked up a plan to send Mack away when they reached the lab but there really was no need. An hour until Ward was moved and no assignments in the garage that Fitz knew of but the other man still, upon seeing Fitz to his usual seat, made an excuse to leave. Something about preparing the security detail for Ward's transfer. Fitz knew that was under May's supervision, so Mack was not needed, but he really had no intention of pressing when it accomplished the goal he had set out for all along. It got Mack out of the way and to Fitz's great fortune Jemma was not in the lab, he had no idea where she was, and Chelsea was tilted so far over a microscope that her readings would be entirely inaccurate but he could not bring himself to correct her. No, the lab technician would not be an issue. She scarcely looked up as Fitz spent his time working around the room and picking up options, looking them over, and either pocketing them or tossing them aside. In a way he was almost disappointed that no one showed up to stop him. Jemma would have known something was up when he palmed the micro-ADS they had been working on prior to the incident and dropped it in the often-useless breast pocket of today's red/white flannel shirt. She would definitely have questions about why he needed such a tool.
But Jemma was not here and when Fitz really, really thought about it, had she been for awhile?
The hour passed quick enough to be a blur and looking back later, he would likely realize how little planning had gone into his actions really. A lot of it had been working on instinct. That could be the only explanation as to why when he was finishing, midway through slipping a flash drive into his pocket, he turned to see Chelsea staring at him and panicked with such intensity.
"Mr. Fitz, you know we are not supposed to take any data storage devices out of the lab without-"
Okay, panicked was a bit of an understatement for freaking out, grabbing an ICER off his workstation, and shooting Jemma's assistant. Granted, it was an ICER, so she would be fine at the end of the day, but to be honest Fitz was nearly as surprised as she'd likely been. The nice asian woman collapsed on the floor in a heap and Fitz, eyes wide and breaths heavy, tossed the ICER on the floor as if it burned him. There was no going back now - he was so screwed.
This would definitely be worthy of an execution by May flip-kick, no doubt.
He did not have long to panic. No sooner had Fitz pulled Chelsea's unconscious body behind a desk than the call went out for everyone to assemble for the procession. Procession, funeral style, that was all Fitz could think about it as he stepped over to the only lab door he had not locked, the one facing the hallway, and waited. A troop of SHIELD soldiers, more than Fitz had seen in the playground in quite some time, swept past down the hall for retrieval. Across the way from him, at the door to the kitchen, Fitz finally laid eyes on Jemma and Skye. The two women stood in the door, Jemma's hand on Skye's upper arm, and were talking quietly. Too far away to make out what they were saying and too panicked to care, Fitz instead looked sharply away from them and thought back to the note he'd scribbled. Scribbled, quite literally, his hands were shaking and it took shoving them into his pockets to keep it subtle.
The note had been simple because of his condition and so all it read was...
Jemma,
Tell the others I'm sorry, I can't let you do this.
I'm not Hydra, I promise. I know what I'm doing.
Don't let May kill me please.
It wasn't enough, no manner of words would have been enough and Fitz knew it. Were it not for the unconscious lab assistant not far off, his determination might have been shaken. (Un)fortunately it was impossible for him to go back now. Jemma and Skye had not noticed him standing in the lab doorway but further down the hall, Trip, whose face was practically a storm in the midst of a scowl, did and nodded solemnly at him. Automatically, Fitz returned the guesture, though he knew that for once him and the rest of the team were at odds in their thoughts.
Fitz did not want to see Ward go back to his brother and likely get tortured, again. The why, which the Scot had only worked out vaguely in his head, was not the important part. He just felt, no, knew that he had to do this. Otherwise Ward would be gone forever, likely dead, and he would never be able to find out all the truths he wanted to know. Oh, perhaps he should have put that in the letter as well. Jemma would certainly understand the intense search for truth if nothing else. That was the creed they both lived by. It would have looked a lot better than a vague 'sorry'.
It was kind of scary how little thought the actual act really took.
Coulson went by first, leading the pack of soldiers and their captive, with a grim look on his face. He did not make eye contact with Fitz, instead looking to Skye, and the two shared another of those knowing looks between each other that Fitz knew he and the others (except maybe May who knew everything) would never truly be privy too. Both of them wanted this. That made them different and in about, Fitz actually mentally calculated to distract himself, 3.5 seconds, they would be on opposite sides of what they wanted. Drastically opposite sides. Not to mention May who brought up the rear behind the entire ensemble. Fitz had never dreamed of going against her.
Ward.
He was still in the prison scrubs, still unshaven, and in the strong overhead lighting of the playground outside of his cell block, incredibly pale. Despite his appearance the ex-agent walked tall, back straight, and looked at each of them in turn. He looked to Trip. He looked to Skye and Jemma who, to Fitz's great surprise and worry, said she would kill him if she ever saw him again. Oh, she would not take the note well at all then. It was only after that exchange in which Ward turned his eyes on Fitz and for a moment, a millisecond, his eyes softened that Fitz knew his decision had to be correct - it just had to. He would never risk everything just on a hunch.
That was what he was doing after-all; risking everything he knew.
None of them expected it, their attention solely focused on Ward and not the broken scientist in a doorway, not even Coulson saw it coming. May was the only one to react but it happened before she could even do some amazing martial arts flip and kill them both. Ward was in front of him and Fitz threw himself forward at the other man at the same time he pulled out the micro-ADS, pressed the side he had hastily applied an adhesive to onto Ward's neck, and hit the button hidden on the side that activated it. People were yelling, someone said he was trying to kill Ward, but the only voice that really stood out over all the rest was Jemma yelling, "Fitz, no!"
She was the only one who knew what it was.
Click.
Fitz, whose hand was on the wrong end of the device, was the first to feel it and he almost screamed. The pain was so intense, so real and all at once and all consuming. There was no sound to indicate what was happening. No time to protect himself at this distance. Ward was in his face yelling at him but Fitz could not hear it, the pain blotting out his hearing as his vision started to blacken at the edges. His whole body felt like it was on fire - literally burning to a crisp - as the riot control device went live. The Active Denial System, ADS for short, might have been micro-sized by Fitz and a bit of help from Jemma, but they had only improved on the design. Instead of a focused beam heating up the top surface water in the victims in a focused beam it pulsed a wave out, filling the hallway, and only through will and his knowledge of the device did Fitz stay conscious long enough to see Jemma and Skye hidden behind the glass door of the kitchen and generally freaking out, May attempting to drag herself back to her feet with a hardened grimace, and then there was Mack, collapsed at the far end of the hall towards the cells, already unconscious from the pain. Fitz, hurting and scared, felt like crying just from that but when the first tear rolled down his cheek it only intensify the feeling of his skin burning and brought on the darkness.
The last thing he felt was someone grabbing him tightly and pulling him up.
The last thing he heard was the sound of a gun going off.
Author Note
Don't kill me for what I've done here this day.
We are officially well and truly off the rails.
But in other news, chapters will likely grow longer after this.
