Sitting in the interrogation room, the four walls around him, Ward looked down at his hands, still chained to the table. Mik, viewing on the display in the observation room, wondered what was going through his head and pondered what she was going to say to him when she went in there again. The door opened, and Coulson came in and sat down beside her.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, both staring at the screen in front of them, at the man on the screen who just sat there staring at his hands. Ward's face was a mask, revealing not a single emotion.

"I don't even know how to feel about him," said Coulson, breaking the silence.

"Nor do I," replied Mik.

"I have a science agent, one of the most brilliant minds in the world, lying in a coma. We don't even know what to expect when he wakes up. Will he be the same? Will he be damaged? If so, is it permanent?"

"I know." Mik's voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," said Coulson. "You didn't do this."

"I should probably get back in there," said Mik, but she remained in her seat staring at the screen.

"Something wrong?" asked Coulson.

"I'm not sure what to say to him. So far, I'm not getting very far. He's not opening up."

"Why not try another tack."

"Such as?"

"Maybe if you open up to him, it will help him open up to you."


He glanced up as the door opened, watched her sit down across from him, then returned his gaze to the table.

"Glutton for punishment?" he asked.

"Nah." Mik drummed her fingers on the table for a moment, then reached over to touch his hand. He flinched, so she leaned back in the chair again. "Did you ever wonder? About us?"

"Garrett told me what I needed to know."

"And that was what?"

"Last I knew…Sam was in school – Yale Medical School. Maynard's in prison. You're—"

"A librarian in Peoria."

"Yup."

"You never checked for yourself?"

Ward looked up, annoyed. "Why? I asked Garrett, he told me."

"He lied to you."

"I doubt that. Why would he?"

"It's a control thing with guys like him." Ward was silent. "Do you—do you want to know? The truth?" She saw him close his eyes, and she waited. Finally, he shrugged.

"If you want to tell me, I'm not stopping you."

"Sam's dead," she said quietly. "He didn't survive Maynard." She took in a shaky breath. "Maynard didn't survive me."

Ward looked across the table at her, his lips pressed together tightly.

"He beat Sam to death in front of me. Sam was 11, I was 14, you were back at school, I think, when it happened. Mom and dad…they told the cops he fell down the stairs." She ran a hand through her hair. "I was terrified. Maynard got worse after that, like he could get away with anything. Which I guess was true."

"I went to the library, you know how much he hated that stuff, so it was my safe haven." She leaned on her arms on the table. "Did you know that the town library had a huge special collection room? I found some pretty interesting things in there. Lots of crazy occult stuff, old religious texts, really old medical books, weird stuff. But in among all those things was a book of anatomy, and that's where I learned all those obscure pressure points. Did you know that there's a spot on your throat that if you press at exactly the right angle and just the right amount of pressure, you can render someone unconscious in three seconds?"

Grant narrowed his eyes. She could see the wheels turning. "So one day, when Mom and Dad were off on one of their vacations, I used it to knock Maynard out. Then I dragged him down to the basement and – you remember that big workbench down there? I know you do, that's where he used to..." Her voice trailed off.

"Anyway," she continued, shaking her head to clear it. "I know you remember it. I strapped him down, waited for him to regain consciousness. Oh shit, was he MAD!" She met Grant's gaze, knowing her face was now as cold as his. "There's another point on the human body that when you apply pressure exactly right, it paralyzes your victim. They can see and hear everything, feel everything. You can hurt them and they…feel…every…single…moment of it. So I started hurting him. I hurt him for Sam, hurt him bad for Sam. Then I hurt him for you…and for me. I got carried away. By the time I was done, we were both a bloody mess, and he was dead." She ran a hand through her hair and looked away at the wall. "That's how they found us. I was exhausted, sitting on the floor with a bloody knife in my hand, in a pool of Maynard's blood."

"I was babbling about him killing Sam, about him beating us all the time, about what he did to you - what he did to me - what he did to all of us. They – mom and dad – they didn't know what to do, so they had me committed. Didn't want to have Sams's death investigated, I think. So they said I was crazy and locked me away."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Ward asked.

She leaned forward. "Because you need to know the truth. And Garrett didn't give it to you. I want you to know that I'm not going to hide anything from you, I will never lie to you."

"Ok," he replied. "Who do you work for?"

"Stark Industries." It was the truth; she did work for Stark, and she wasn't going to tell him that Fury was still alive. She worked for Stark; Fury contacted her through Tony when he called her in. "Tony Stark found me in the institution when I was 15, I hadn't been there maybe 8 months? I was smart, I was a great hacker." She chuckled. "I hacked his JARVIS system one time too many from the administrative office computer; kinda knocked Iron Man outta the sky, so he came looking for me. He told me I didn't belong there, and he checked me out, brought me to work for him. I had some skills he thought would be beneficial to SHIELD, so he brought me to Fury, and Fury brought me to Romanoff."

"Romanoff?" Ward said doubtfully.

"Romanoff turned me into the Shadow."

"So you do work for SHIELD."

"No. I'm an independent contractor. I work for Stark, I have a contract with SHIELD."

Ward shook his head, then looked up at her questioningly. "This is the truth?"

Mik nodded. "I told you. I won't lie to you. I know you probably don't trust anyone but Garrett, but you have my word. I will not lie to you."

"Garrett saved me."

"From what?"

"Prison."

"You were in juvie."

"Maynard was going to have me tried as an adult."

"That's not true. There were people fighting for you."

"Nobody ever fought FOR me."

"I did. That's why you got probation and sent back to school."

"But Garrett said—"

"I know what Garrett said. It wasn't true."

Grant's eyes narrowed. She knew he was doubting her.

"I can show you the paperwork, Grant. You were given three years' probation, a no contact order, and the stipulation that you finish school. That's why you went back to military school after juvie."

The look on his face caught her off-guard. He looked confused. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Military school," he replied.

She shook her head; now she was confused. "Yes…that's why you were taken from juvie and sent back."

"I—" The look of confusion on his brow deepened.

She raised her brows at him. "You…what?" she prompted.

"Never went back to military school?" It was almost a question and was barely audible.

"Your file says you did. Your school transcripts are in there. The no contact order. The probation order." He met her eyes then, and she wasn't sure what she saw there – accusation? Did he think she was lying to him. "I told you I won't lie to you, Grant. Your file says you went back to school, you graduated with honors, there are progress reports in there, a copy of your diploma." She cocked her head. "In all the years you worked for SHIELD, didn't you ever look at your own file?"

"Why would I?"

"I don't know…curiosity?"

Grant shrugged and shook his head.

"It's in there," Mik said. "Our whole family history-"

"I know it is. I mean, Coulson knew the family history, Maria Hill, Fury, they were aware."

"I know they were." Mik leaned forward and touched his hand again. This time he just stared down at their hands, a look of confusion on his face. "But did you ever think to ask them WHAT it was they were aware of?" She let go of his hand and leaned back in her chair again. "Why would you? Why would you have any reason to doubt what your SO was telling you?"

Mik shoved her chair back and stood; she was angry now. "This is a mess," she said and left the room, leaving the door open behind her. "Take him back to his cell," she said to the guard outside the door.

"Ma'am?" the guard asked.

"Did I stutter?!" anger flashed in her eyes and she brought her face close to the guard's. "I said take him back to his cell; I'm done for today."