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The cold was merciless. It was all around him and with every wet drop that leaked through his thin clothes, the chill seeped deeper into his bones. The sudden crack of thunder startled him, before he hunched over some more for warmth.
Where was Buddy? He had been beside him just moments ago, he could not be far. The smell of wet fur was still in his nose and he longed for the meager warmth the dog would provide. And not just for the warmth. God, he was alone. He had never been more alone in his entire life. There was not even one human soul to be found in the radius of a few hundred miles.
What had he been thinking, taking a complete stranger up on the offer of busting him out of juvie?
It had been the last in a row of stupid things he had done in the last few days. Why had he even thought that burning down his parents' house would solve anything? Why couldn't he have followed his sister's lead and waited just another year or two before turning his back on his family for good? He would not be in this mess right now. Just a few more years and he would have been free to build his own life. Get a grip on everything and start over new. He could have started working in a book store. Or done something with animals. He was not picky, he might have made peace with pretty much every job that promised a quiet life. But no, instead of waiting it out, he had acted rashly on his feelings. And his feelings had told him that he could not take it anymore, not even for another day.
He shivered and wiped his wet hair out of his forehead. Would the man, John, come back? Would he leave him out here to die? Would he come back to do horrible things to him?
The fear in the pit of his stomach made him tremble all over. He didn't want to die! He wanted to get out of here!
"Buddy!" he suddenly screamed, his voice getting lost in the noise of the storm. "Buddy! Come here!"
Where was the dog? He couldn't have gone that far...
Out of nowhere, a thought struck him. Something was wrong here. Buddy was dead. Had he shot the dog? But why would he kill his only companion? This made no sense at all.
"Buddy!" he tried to shout again, but all that came over his lips was a feeble whisper.
A hand was suddenly on his shoulder, startling him badly. Without thinking, he lashed out, but his weak punch was deflected easily.
"Ward, calm down," a man's voice told him. There was kindness in it and something else... Sadness? Exasperation? Weariness? He could not tell.
He cracked his eyes open slightly and had to blink against the brightness that blinded him. It was sunlight. He felt sunrays dancing on his face. The realization that the storm and that terrible night must have passed made his disorientation complete.
"...John? You finally came... get me out of here?" he asked faintly.
"Not quite," the man told him and though Ward could not make out his face against the brightness of day and the blurriness of his vision, he could hear the frown in the other's voice. The man sounded unamused and disapproving now, all kindness gone, which made Ward realize that he had said something wrong.
He blinked some more, but his vision remained blurry. Something was off. Where the hell was he? He tried to struggle to a sitting position, but he found his arms too weak to support him and his ribs were screaming in pain. Gasping, he fell back to the mattress. Blood was rushing in his head and his heart was beating wildly.
"Relax," the man told him quietly and Ward could have wept with relief to hear that the kindness was back. He had not messed this up. He had not done anything wrong. "Get some rest, Ward."
The voice was familiar. He knew that voice, he was sure of it.
Blinking sluggishly at the blurry face, he asked hoarsely, "... sir?... Coulson?"
He heard a sigh, then the blurry blob nodded his head. "Yes, it's me." After a short moment, Coulson repeated, "Get some rest now."
Ward tried to do just that. The sunlight felt nice on his face and he found himself slowly relaxing. His heart settled down to a slow pace and his mind felt comfortably empty. He was out of the woods, that much was clear. Just... where was he?
As if his thoughts had been heard, Coulson said quietly, "You're safe. Everything's fine."
Ward believed him and let himself slip into nothingness again.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
A moan pulled him from the depths of a dead sleep.
Ward struggled to open his eyes, dreading to be greeted by another ghost of the past. Instead, he was met by a rack of grey folders to his left. Files? He blinked a few times, but the folders stayed in place. Alright. True, he might have had some nightmares about paper work every once in a while, but that had been on a very different level than the gut-wrenching memories and flashbacks he had experienced in the last few hours. Seeing the files and what looked like a stash of office supplies almost felt calming right now.
His memories were shady on the last few hours, but he clearly remembered his captivity and the effects of the mind serum. He also remembered Coulson putting him back in Vault D, though that part was less clear in his memory. However, it was obvious that he was not in his prison cell anymore.
Drawing a deep breath, he took a moment to take stock of himself. His heart beat at a slow steady rhythm and he felt like he had at last reconquered some measure of control over his awareness. So far, it seemed like the hallucinations had stopped. The serum was finally wearing off and it looked as if his past was back in the boxes where it belonged. His mind however was still raw and aching, like the dull throbbing of a healing wound that would roar back alive if poked one too many times. His injuries had not vanished either. His broken ribs hurt with every breath and he had a monster headache that spoke of head trauma. To sum it up, he felt like shit. And still, he was much better than he had been before.
Another moan cut the silence and now that Ward was a bit more awake, he could easily tell that the voice was female. And it did not sound like the woman was in pain. More like the opposite.
He slowly turned his head in the direction of the sound and realized two things at once: He was lying on a cot in Coulson's office (what the hell was he doing in Coulson's office?) and it was not the director sitting behind the desk. It was Hunter, staring at the screen of a laptop in front of him, deeply engrossed. The computer was definitely the source of the moaning, but Ward could not see what he was watching because the screen was turned away from him.
"Are you seriously watching porn in Coulson's office?" Ward croaked out, feeling some childish satisfaction when Hunter flinched badly at the sound of his voice.
However, the former mercenary got himself under control quickly and shot Ward a look over the lid of the laptop with raised brows.
"Duh, you Americans are all prudes," he drawled in reply, shaking his head in mock sadness while the woman in the film moaned on without missing a beat. "And it's not technically porn. It's a European art-house film, they all sound like that."
Even though Ward had been a spy the better part of his life, he truly could not tell if Hunter was joking or not.
When Ward said nothing in reply, Hunter sighed and turned down the sound a bit before he looked back at Ward. "What else should I watch while on nanny duty?"
So that meant the former mercenary was there because of him. Probably making sure Ward was not stealing anything. He was dying to know more about his present sleeping arrangements, but he pushed these thoughts out of his mind, then asked back slowly, "What's wrong with the History Channel?"
Hunter smirked slightly, then replied, "Well, nothing's wrong with the channel itself, more like with what you call history. That last 200 and something years? Laughable, really. Queen Lizzie herself is older than that."
Ward felt his lips tick up slightly at that. This whole scene was both extremely bizarre and oddly normal at the same time. It felt like some light banter among team members. Thing just was that he was not a member of any team anymore. Beside that, he hardly knew Hunter. Sure, they had exchanged some words when it was mission-related and the former mercenary had acted friendly enough around him, but that was about it.
"What am I doing in Coulson's office?" he finally asked and winced a bit as he started to push himself into a sitting position on the cot. His head was killing him. He lifted a hand to rub his temples, and only then noticed that he was hooked up to an IV. Things must have gone worse than he had thought. He also had no idea how much time he had lost.
"How much do you remember?" Hunter asked back carefully, snapping his laptop shut. The moaning immediately stopped.
The ensuing silence made Ward deeply uncomfortable. He was definitely missing things here. His stomach gave a funny twinge, a dull echo of the panic he had experienced before. What had he said while under the serum? He wracked his brain for memories of the last few hours, which made his head hurt with a new vengeance. Things were hazy since he had set foot on the plane. Coulson had seen him hallucinating, hadn't he? That thought brought his pulse up again. What did they know? Now that he thought about it, the light banter with Hunter should already have told him that something was off. Something had changed.
"I remember fighting Hydra and I remember Coulson forcing me aboard the plane, after that everything's a blank," he replied, lying through his teeth.
"Oh, good. Count yourself lucky you don't remember the rest," Hunter commented with raised eyebrows, giving him a small smile.
And suddenly it struck Ward what was different. A hint of pity swung in Hunter's voice. What he had initially taken for friendliness was actually pity. That realization made him faintly nauseous. Oh god, what had he said?
"Well, I'm fine now," Ward stated as levelly as he could and started to detach the IV from his arm.
"Mate, I'm not sure you're cleared for..." Hunter tried to say, but Ward cut him off.
"I'm fine," Ward repeated and pulled out the IV with a bit more force than necessary, then heaved himself to his feet. His ribs and head screamed at him to lie back down again and he felt weak as a kitten, but his legs held his weight, which he interpreted as a victory. "You could see for yourself that I'm not brainwashed, so let me go."
Hunter bodily moved between him and the door, then told him with a frown, "Whoa, I don't know what got your knickers in a twist all of a sudden, but I'm sure you can't just walk out of here like that."
"Like what?" Ward snapped, refusing to steady himself against a shelf even though it was tempting.
"Like you'll collapse any second," Hunter shot back, levelling him with a pointed look. "Dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants. Barefooted. With a look on your face that spells murder for the first one to cross your path."
"Coulson promised to let me go," Ward pointed out, having a hard time to keep the growl out of his voice. All he could think about was that he wanted to be out of here as soon as possible. A tiny voice in his head told him that he was running away – from himself, the team, the world, whatever – but he did not feel like listening to it.
The door opened and the man they had just been talking about stepped in, raising his eyes at the sight before him.
"What's going on here?" Coulson asked, voice still calm, but a frown on his face.
Ward suddenly remembered that voice telling him that everything would be alright. He remembered the kindness in it, which had meant so much when he had been under the influence of the serum. Now, it made him sweat. Everything in him screamed to do his very best to hear that kindness again, to work his ass off so he would have someone around who cared. It was John all over again. And that was bad.
What the fuck was wrong with him?! He would never learn, would he? He was like a dog, trying to please his new master. If he had not been busy with keeping himself upright, he would have sneered at himself in disgust.
"Well," Hunter began, answering Coulson's question. "Ward has obviously risen from the dead and thinks he's ready to leave us already."
Coulson switched his gaze to Ward and frowned a bit more.
"You want to leave?" the director asked.
"You promised to let me go," Ward replied and felt quite proud that his voice remained steady. They obviously already knew how pathetic he really was, but he had some small scraps of self-respect left, which he would guard with his teeth bared. It was everything he had left.
"I did," Coulson acknowledged, a touch of worry in his eyes. "But I didn't say when you could leave. You have a few rough hours behind you. I want you to stay here on the Playground for another 24 hours."
Ward felt his throat choking up. His reaction told him that the serum was still in his system and that his grip on his emotions was not as strong as it had been before this whole mess. Why was Coulson trying to keep him here? Was this all some kind of ploy and he would end up back in Vault D no matter what he did? Or was Coulson actually concerned about him? None of these two options made him feel any more at ease.
"What if I don't want to stay?" Ward finally asked back, forcing a hint of cockiness into his voice.
Coulson sighed, then levelled him with a long look. "We don't have to make this difficult, Ward. But you know we have measures to make you stay."
Ward gritted his teeth at that. All these years and he still had not learned his fucking lesson! Never trust anyone, especially not the damn Salvation Army, in whatever form it might appear to him. He shoved it all to the back of his mind and forced a smirk on his face. "Yeah, get the monster back in your basement before it tears out your throats."
Coulson's frown deepened before he replied forcefully, "This is not what this is about. You should see yourself, you can barely stand! You weren't yourself in the last few hours and I'm not sure if that serum is fully out of your system yet, so my conscience won't allow it to just let you walk out of here when you make a decision that you can't take full responsibility for. I want to help you, Ward. I'm not punishing you. But to me, it feels like you're constantly fighting me, even when you're presently on our side."
"You labelled me as the enemy!" Ward shot back angrily. "That's what your enemy does, fighting you."
"Damn it, you were the enemy!" Coulson exploded. It was a rare sight, to see the director for once lose his calm. "You worked against us and betrayed us! I don't know what you are now, Ward, but you can't expect us to just forget. This team got hurt by your actions. They are still hurting and they don't trust you. The team comes first and if the team feels threatened by you, I'll do everything I can to make them feel safer."
Ward swallowed heavily, the words paining him more than he wanted to admit. The anger he had felt just moments ago left him in a rush, leaving him light-headed and with his head aching more viciously than before.
"I won't hurt them again," he promised thickly. "I never wanted to hurt them in the first place."
Coulson was silent for a moment, then – visibly calmer – nodded his head. "I know. But you did. And I realize now that there are reasons why you did it."
The sudden turn of conversation made Ward deeply uncomfortable. He could hear the traces of pity weaving itself into Coulson's voice as well. Great, he went from traitor to basket case in just a few hours. God, he hated his life.
"Where will I stay for the next few hours if I'm not allowed to leave?" he asked, going for a brisk change of topic.
"Would you be alright with one of the spare bunks?" Coulson asked back, allowing the topic change without a comment.
It was a strange question and Ward felt himself frowning. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"It's underground," the director explained, watching him intently. "You had some troubles with the dark. It's why Kara thought it best to bring you up here."
Hunter, who had watched their exchange without saying a word, suddenly snorted, then commented, "Troubles is good. It looked more like an epic crack-up."
Coulson tried to silence Hunter with a glare, but Ward had heard enough to speed up his pulse. They had seen him at his weakest. John had told him so many times to get rid of his weaknesses or to at least never let other people know about it. Because people would just take advantage of it. The team had probably thought it pretty hilarious to see him scared of the dark and his own shadow. This might have even cracked up May.
"An underground bunk is fine," Ward replied as steadily as he could, ignoring Hunter's comment and pushing down his inner turmoil. Still, the humiliation stung terribly.
"Good," Coulson replied, then went for his desk and pulled a box out of one of the drawers. He opened it and Ward saw that it held a metallic bracelet, not unlike the one Skye had worn back then when the world had still rotated around its own axis. "Hold out your hand."
Ward did as he was told and the bracelet snapped shut around his bandaged right wrist. At least it was light enough not to aggravate his injuries.
"It will allow you access to the showers, bathroom and the kitchen," Coulson explained and gave him a long look. "It will prevent you from going anywhere else and it has a tracker on it."
Ward nodded numbly and suddenly felt again this urge to somehow show his worth to Coulson. Before he could stop himself, he muttered, "I know how to get rid of it. It's not easy, but it can be done."
The way Hunter gaped at him was almost funny, but the director just gave him an intent look.
"Yes," Coulson said slowly. "I've expected as much. Still, I trust you to keep it on your wrist for the time being. And I'd advise not to tell anyone else that you can get it off whenever you want."
Coulson gave him a small smile and a meaningful look that Ward could interpret in only one way: This was a huge leap of faith and Ward better not mess it up this time. He nodded hesitantly.
"Good," the director said. "I have things to do. Hunter, could you show Ward to the room 32b? And get another blood sample to Simmons, I want to know how much of the serum is still in his system."
Hunter gave a slightly mocking 'Yes, sir' before he sauntered to the door. Ward followed him with cautious steps.
-tbc-
Thoughts? Good? Bad?
I'm not completely happy with this chapter, because Ward somehow ran away with me and just didn't want to end up where I wanted to have him. Of course he would be difficult not only towards Coulson, but also towards me... I wanted to speed up things, but then I realized that some things would take up more time than I thought, so there's not a whole lot of plot in this one. We'll (hopefully!) move along more quickly in the next chapter!
And just a side note: While writing this, I realized for the first time, that the show didn't only make Ward a villain in the finale, they also took away every chance that we will ever see a Ward-Hunter-bromance on screen... Damn, I've been looking forward to that the whole season! And now, in S3, Hunter will hate Ward's guts for almost killing Bobbi... Stupid writers! Duh...