...
They are barely able to move, but the urge to survive keeps them going as they get up and make their way around their whole cell, feeling the walls for any cracks or loose bolts, anything they could start peeling off, digging away at, to get out somehow. But this is not the Shawshank Redemption, and the walls they encounter are seamless, so smooth they can't even dig their own nails in there. There is nothing for them to grab onto. Even their bathroom corner is a construct as if molded out of one giant smooth slab of material, no nook, no cranny, no screws in sight. Nothing.
The only way out is the door; and they can't possibly start digging away at that one, in full view of their captors - if ever they come back.
Frustrated, they eventually give up. Looking at each other, they shake their heads, then walk over to the bed and sit back down, breathing out harsh exhausted breaths, their abused bodies not quite up for the added exercise.
Ward grimaces as he feels his chest burn with every breath, but doesn't say anything. Campbell by his side looks so positively ashen that he wonders whether the kid will pass out on him, but after a few minutes of sitting, a bit of color comes back into his lips, just enough to make Ward stop worrying.
Their demise has a strange effect on him: he actively worries about this kid. Shaking his head at himself, he lets his mind wander for a bit.
...
"So," he eventually begins, because he feels like one of them has to break the silence, but they are both not ready yet to face the truth. That they're probably just waiting for the next round of torture and experiments at this point after all. Despite everything they said...
"What do you want to do if we ever get out of here... and back?" Grant gives Lincoln a sideways glance as they both continue sitting on his bed, waiting. He resumes staring at his arms resting on his knees, a position not unlike his companion's, though Ward is a little more sunken into himself - but then again, he almost just died.
Lincoln scoffs softly. "I don't know," he says, indulging Ward with an answer that thankfully doesn't begin by doubting they will eventually be able to make it out alive, and he appreciates that. "All I want at this point is to see Daisy one more time. I was…" Lincoln falters, and Grant squints at him.
"You were what?" he cajoles when the younger man doesn't continue, and, with a heavy sigh, Lincoln resumes talking, if even quieter than before.
"I was ready to give it all up. Give her up. Leave SHIELD…"
"Well. I'm not blaming you on that last one." Ward can't help a chuckle, but the kid doesn't even show any reaction.
"I never told her. Just Coulson."
Ward rolls his eyes but refrains from making a comment.
"Still, I wish I could take it all back…"
Licking his lips, Ward rolls his neck. He sighs, understanding the hurt better than he would care to admit.
"Me too," he eventually allows, saying what he hasn't dared thinking for way too long. Feeling the words on his tongue, actually hearing them out loud, gives him a sharp pang. But not of regret. Of yearning. Once, that girl was his. Could have been his. And then… Everything fell apart.
He notices Lincoln's awkward stare, and grins to himself. He can't blame the kid. To him, Grant Ward is probably just a goddamn psycho, formerly infested by some Inhuman would-be god, with as bad of a track record of horrible deeds as the worst villains out there.
He sighs. If only Skye had given him a real chance. No. He can't shift the blame to her. Skye…
Skye. Something is working in his head. Only now does he notice how quiet they have become, and speaking again feels strange, but he does it anyway.
"Was it ever weird for you to call her Daisy?"
...
His question hits Lincoln pretty much out of the blue and he gives the older man a look, frowning. Really? That's what's going on in Ward's head right now? Daisy's many names?
He scoffs, grinning disbelievingly.
"It was never weird, no. It's her name."
"Yeah, but. I mean… I guess you didn't know her as Skye as long as I did." He can't help it, he has to remind the kid that Grant Ward has known Skye for much longer than Lincoln Campbell.
"No," Lincoln agrees carefully, "but it doesn't matter. Daisy is her real name. The one chosen for her, and more importantly, the one she chose for herself. It's a matter of respect to call her what she wants to be called."
Grant makes an appreciative face. He can appreciate that, though he could do without the Inhuman's lofty better-than-thou attitude accompanying it. As if Ward doesn't respect her as much.
Stupid kid, you have no idea...
It's probably better to change the subject, he decides, because he feels a certain anger bubbling up inside of him that is dangerous. And surprisingly unwelcome.
"Any ideas on how we could still make it out of here?"
Lincoln is a little thrown by the other man's non-sequitur, but is quick to keep up. It's not like he hasn't gone over possible escape scenarios in his head ever since they realized they'll only get out through the actual door.
Maybe if he gets enough energy to fire a good electrical blast once someone comes to retrieve them? Someone should come for them soon, right?
Shrugging, he faces his companion. "Attack whenever they come to get us?"
Ward grins, looking only half amused. "Right. In the state we're in, that's gonna leave a hell of an impact on them."
"I'll try and blast them with electricity and we'll make a run for it. - I don't know! Do you have a better idea?!" Lincoln challenges, suddenly a little more heatedly, feeling frustration rise to the forefront, past his hopelessness.
"One you won't like," Ward replies cryptically, and when he elaborates, Lincoln agrees: he really doesn't like it. Not one bit.
But they don't have much time to come up with a better idea, for right then, they hear noises at the door. Someone has finally decided to check up on them...