Author Note
This story is now officially posted on AO3 under the same name.
The all consuming levels of awkward kept Fitz under the steadily less warm spray a nice, long time. It reached a point where he half expected Ward to knock on the door checking on him but it never came. When at last Fitz did emerge, skin pink and hair wild, it was somewhat disheartening to snake back into the same clothes he'd worn for three days. Disgusting really, he would have never done it out of this situation, but it was hard to look at Grant Ward and seriously say, 'Hey. I know we are running from so many people. But can we stop, I need new clothes.'. That just was not going to happen. Washing his clothes in the bathroom sink? More likely.
What little they did have was the product of gift shops and vendors at various stations. Fitz had no confirmation but he was starting to suspect that trips to Walmart, capitalist megalith it was, were at odds with the Basics of Espionage 101 class that field operatives all seemed to take.
Which brought the scientist right back to his current predicament, learning those skills.
Ward tended to, despite their need to be low profile, go for the best hotels in an area. They had only stayed at one simple one cubical style room with double beds. The older man seemed to like apartment style, kitchen included, and while they had not discussed it Fitz knew that Coulson and May had always preferred them as well. Probably another operations thing. 'Live fine while you live' or something similarly grim. Fitz expected to walk out of the bedroom to a selection of guns on the table, acquired in the time his shower took, and maybe a live grenade or two. Instead he got Ward, black tee back on and wasn't that a blessing for his dignity, sitting at the counter-top area going at breakfast. Two other things the scientist, overanalyzing, noticed in their time together; Real-Ward ate healthy. Salads, non-seasoned chicken, protein bars, and a complete absence of all things sugary or delicious. It explained the body at least and Fitz, self-conscious as he tended to be around the other man, had not complained about adapting to the same diet. He may have killed for a burger at some points but so long as Ward, in some bizarre internal schedule, picked their eating locations, he would not complain vocally, yet. The second thing he had noticed? Real-Ward, though Fitz suspected this was an operatives in general kind of thing, ate mechanically. Actual humans smile when they eat something delicious or at least comment on it. When Fitz took a seat at the stool beside Ward's, looked down at his room-service omelet, salad, and bottled water, he pronounced it, "Looks delicious." and Ward just kind of nodded at him while rhythmically chewing. Oh, right, he also did not talk while eating.
Fitz, on the other hand, knew he would never adopt that trait, "I just wanted...I mean…" He poked at the food with a fork while talking, playing with it more than he actually ate, "I need to apologize. It wasn't fair of me to get angry about you wanting to call them." Ward was looking at him now, his gaze level and but interested, and did not interrupt. That was a double-edged thing. Fitz liked the attention but on the other hand sometimes craved for Jemma or Skye to be around to either blatantly interrupt him or finish his sentences, take some of the attention away, and with just the two of them here it was all him, all the time. He'd stopped talking and focused on eating, waiting to see if Ward would respond, and the other man instead went back to his meal. It should have been awkward but the two had spent enough time in silence that Fitz went with it. They finished, Ward first considering food was not meant to be enjoyed, before the scientist continued, "I just...needed to say that. I understand. If you ever want to...I mean, have to, I suppose, you-"
Ward interrupted him, "You can stop worrying. I do not plan to." It was not rudely said, just factual, and the ex-agent acted like nothing happened as he grabbed the boxes and tossed them. Fitz's expression must have been impressive because when Ward turned back and looked at him, the man almost grinned. Almost. Not quite. Real-Ward did not do much grinning, he did a whole lot of smirking. Another observation Fitz had noticed. "You're surprised?" and there he was, leaning on the counter across from him, effectively trapping Fitz into looking at him as the scientist worried his sleeves, bounced his legs, and generally fidgeted.
"Well...yes, I suppose, I mean...there's no viable method of confirming that another episode…"
"There are ways to control. If it is just emotions and thoughts, you can repress them."
Speaking of control, Fitz apparently lost it over his mouth when he opened it and out came, "Is that how you managed to fool us for so long?" Ward's eyes widened, fractionally, but they were close enough to see it and Fitz wanted to just fade away. They had discussed the past before, in the house they broke into, but most of it had been about Fitz himself or what Ward had done while with Hydra. The topic of 'pre-treason' had been something mostly avoided. The dark haired man had not seemed inclined to discuss it really and Fitz, despite his apparently out-of-control curiosity, had not wanted to, until now apparently. Hastily he brought his hands up and looked for all the world to be surrendering, "No, no, I didn't mean...I was not going to say that. We don't have to discuss it. I mean, it is in the past, I suppose, and we already talked…" His words were going miles beyond normal speed, practically a ramble, and Fitz considered…
"It's fine. The answer is yes and no."
Fitz looked up at Ward. The man was frowning, a hard set to his face, but it did not seem directed at the scientist. Well, technically it was, but Fitz suspected it was not for him. It was the same expression the man had worn most of their previous major discussion. Part sad, part angry, and Fitz never knew exactly whom got the anger but was just glad - as he had to be reassured previously - it was not him, "Training for undercover work is intense in SHIELD but in Hydra even more so." Fitz had questions about said Hydra training but refrained, for now, as Ward ran a hand through his sleep tousled hair and continued, "Hydra has been undercover for years. Garrett, well, he made sure those of us in position were trained perfectly. In SHIELD academy agents learn how to control themselves and remain focused on the mission. The way I trained, well, you learn how to become a different person. Lock up everything that you were."
The concept made sense technically but, "From a psychological perspective it's not possible to-"
Ah, there was the Real-Ward smirk, "Ever met Natasha Romanova?" Fitz shook his head because really, who just pals around with Avengers, and most of the stories he'd heard back in academy had to be fake. Bit of a sore point really; Fitz was instantly a tad jealous. If Ward noticed, he didn't say, instead continuing with, "She is a master of infiltration, the best really, and Hydra based their training on her. It's not concealing your identity, it's creating a whole new one, believing in it. Some people are better at it than others. Apparently, I was one of the ones good at it. Some people could only craft identities based on themselves, I'm able to become a whole new person if an operation calls for it. Just had to be careful to not let anyone know how good." It was an awkward topic, hearing someone talk about lying with their whole identity, and Fitz must have shown it. He jumped a bit when Ward's hand, without his knowing, came across the counter and caught his wrist. When he went to pull away, not intentionally but instinctually, the other's grip tightened a bit and Ward pressed a thumb to his pulse, "This is making you uncomfortable."
Fitz sagged in on his stool. Ward not had asked a question, he made a statement, and there was no getting around it with just them. No one to hide behind as he panicked and felt his breathing quicken. It was not an attack, not an episode, but it could have turned to one and Fitz squeezed his eyes shut and focused on his breathing. The whole time he worked to control himself, Ward rhythmically pressed down on his pulse point and let up, over and over, and the scientist knew it was to help him. It was a point to focus on and he did, leaning his mind to the touch, elevating his breathing and coming back 'down'. It took a moment but he managed.
"It...yes, it makes me uncomfortable. You make it sound as if...how to put this, as if the Ward we knew never even existed. Which means, everything I did. How I felt…that would all be a..."
"A lie?"
Fitz nodded, slowly, tried to pull his hand back again but Ward's grip tightened. It almost reached a point where it started to hurt and Fitz just stared at that. Was it intentional? Ward did things for a reason, apparently everything, so maybe a bit of pain was something to stabilize-
"Fitz, what I'm about to say is the complete truth-"
"How will I know?" Fitz instantly felt terrible, both for interrupting and his question, but it surged out in a rush of his own honesty. He trusted Ward, he always had to some extent. Even when everyone had thought him a complete idiot for doing so - he had. Even now, despite asking the question, the scientist knew he would likely take whatever the other man said at face value.
"You'll know."
And there it was, plainly stated, and Fitz felt himself nod. He liked to think he would.
Ward did not speak right away. The blank-mask was back on but Fitz, if he guessed, would say 'troubled' or 'worried'. Not that Grant Ward ever seemed to worry much. At least not visibly. It took a special kind of man to calmly have a bomb strapped to him without a care in the world. When at last he did speak it was slow, careful even, "If you want to know how much of it was real, I can't tell you. My assignment from Garrett was just to 'stay-close and watch Coulson'. I did not report back. Full-dark operation. I was not even aware that Garrett was also the Clairvoyant until right before the sting. The reason Hydra keeps secrets so effectively is they do it from their own people." Fitz had wondered about that, quite often actually, but simply nodded mutely as Ward continued, "As long as Coulson did not find out about Hydra, I just had to blend in as a SHIELD operative. Same thing I did for years. Being recruited to the bus was...nice, though. Raina asked me several times how I could betray a man like Coulson, someone who really does simply want to do good, and I never quite had an answer for her. I'm not sure she even expected one. I hated that woman, she reminded me of everything I'd gained and lost, daily, for fun."
While speaking Ward moved, coming around the counter and taking up the same stool he had before. They were close, facing each other, and Fitz had nowhere to go or anything to distract himself from listening. He should have felt crowded, flinched away, and tried to run. It would have been his more-common reaction as of late. Instead, the scientist stayed put, and quietly reveled in some of his biggest questions being answered. Ward still had his wrist beside them on the counter, still pulsing his grip, though not as evenly as before. "It was strange at first. I had been briefed on Coulson and May, but the rest of you threw me off. Garrett would have put a bullet in Skye, not recruited her. Simmons was unlike any of the medical-biotechs I've run into in SHIELD. Not to mention putting you two together. You do not know how reassuring it is to know your on-board medical would move the earth to save a life. Most are a little too eager to give up." Fitz nodded, he agreed obviously, Simmons being his best friend at one point, and waited for it…
Ward went silent.
"And…?"
There was the smirk again as Ward let go of his hand and turned, leaning back against the counter, "You really want to hear me say it? Can't let me have some dignity left?" So calm, assured, and aggravating that Fitz just gave him a look. Ward actually laughed softly, "Fine Fitz, you made me feel...well...you reminded me of things, people, before Hydra. It was easy to forget that I was on a mission around you and just enjoy being the Grant Ward you all knew." Ward paused, no longer laughing, and ran a hand through his hair. He did not look uncomfortable, the man never seemed too, but Fitz felt like he should. If anything he looked somewhat pained, a wince frozen on his face, as he kept going, "I almost told you, in Russia, all of it. When I could not find a way to escape the situation in the bar. If you had not fixed their electricity I would have blurted it all out before we died. If I had gotten out but you hadn't, I know my cover would have been ruined. After that mission I had to keep my distance, I was too comfortable around you, but I just never ended up doing it. You just being you almost ruined my mission several times."
Fitz knew it should not but he felt the warmest sense of pride with that. Not Skye, not Coulson, he had nearly made Ward turn truly good. Or well, close to good. As close as one could get while working for Hydra. "What would you have done if I had died in Russia?" slipped out while he was unaware and for the first time in awhile, Fitz did not regret the slip. He wanted to know. They had been so close to death so many times on that mission, how many times had Ward nearly?
Ward's answer came immediately, "I would have gotten back to the Hub and shot Victoria Hand."
The scientist winced, "You...did. Shoot her I mean. According to reports, unless really Garrett-"
The ex-agent shook his head, face stone, and stood from the stool. He responded flippantly, an over the shoulder if anything, while digging in the one bag they brought, "I did. Several times. That mission had more to do with why than any order Garrett ever gave me though." Fitz felt that 'warmth' in him deflate instantly at the reminder that yes, Ward had killed Victoria hand, and by the tone he did not regret it. Fitz may not have liked the woman but few people really deserved…
Ward sorted out the duffle, mostly cash and papers, across the table while talking. This was better, Fitz did not have to look at his face while they spoke, "What do you want to know, Fitz?" There it was, the open door, the same way Ward approached it the first day post-escape and at the time the scientist had been too drained and flustered to ask much. After their time solely in each others company and without much to do but analyze the ex-agent, Fitz finally had material.
"You do not regret it...Hand, not at all?"
"No. Disregarding the fact that I hated her, I've killed a lot of people Fitz. That is something you need to realize. For Hydra, for SHIELD, neither one spared their enemies and I took care of them. I was trained to be a killer and that is what I do, well, did, but will probably end up doing again." It shocked Fitz to hear it said so frankly, so matter-of-fact, that even though he knew it was true the scientist had to reign in reaction to the callous attitude. Though they never talked about it the feelings were probably shared, sans-Hydra aspect, by Coulson and May. No one ever judged them for it. May had definitely killed people in the field, Fitz knew it from the stories told about her, and it felt...wrong to hold it against Ward. He could almost hear the internal voice of Skye telling him, as she often did, 'Get your head out of the clouds Fitz.' like he ignored reality.
"I...know. I know that. You, Coulson, May, and Trip I'm sure have all killed before. Many times."
Ward stopped whatever it was he was doing and nodded over his shoulder to Fitz.
He did not speak though and so Fitz pushed on, "Okay. I...I can understand that. I don't like it but I can and I'm sure I can't ask you to promise me to kill again because you might have to and-"
"You would be asking me for a lie and I said I'd never do that to you again."
Ward turned, catching Fitz mid-nod, and shortly after the scientist was pulled to his feet. Ward maneuvered them into the miniscule 'den' of the room. Fitz started to help with moving the couch but the other man shrugged him off. Seems they needed room for whatever 'training' the other man had in mind. Hopefully not torture. He could cope with the killing, apparently, but not torture.
Not of anyone, much less so himself, not even in the name of 'fixing' him or 'teaching him control'. Not that Fitz was sure how having an open space to practice something would help the fact that his brain routinely overloaded and refused to cooperate with the most basic of functions.
"So...you and May."
"Really?"
Ward returned to stand beside him and while Fitz, looking a bit up at him, saw the 'out' he felt just emboldened enough to nod. After-all, who knew when he would get another Q&A session.
The ex-agent may have rolled his eyes, "Everyone seems obsessed with that. Skye first, now you, I don't know why. It was just easy." He paused, Fitz must have pulled a face, because Ward's loosened into a smirk, "No, not May was easy. Trust me, nothing with that woman ever is. Just...neither of us could have what we wanted so we took what was available." There it was, a chasm opening inside of Fitz as he tried so hard to not open his mouth and let anything out.
Unfortunately, the rest of him wanted to know, "You mean Skye, right?" As much as he desperately did not want to sound jealous or petty some of it worked into his voice. The question had not even been worth asking, they both knew it, and when Ward fixed him with a raised eyebrow and nodded slowly Fitz just returned the gesture and looked off. The Scot was not even a hundred percent sure where he stood on the situation, his emotions towards Ward, Jemma, or hell even Mack half the time, but the nod still stung. Such petty jealousy was below him though-
"I'm sorry that she is not here with you."
Damnit.
Ward looked surprised for a moment before giving him that look, the analyzing field agent one, as if he were a puzzle to solve, and Fitz just wanted to curl in on himself and die. He braced for something, anything, probably scathing, Skye apparently being a touchy subject with the other. Instead, Fitz felt one of Ward's hands on either of his shoulders and a surprisingly gentle shake just to get his attention. The taller man had slouched, putting them at eye level, and when he spoke it was both finality and his 'calm voice', "Fitz. Skye is not here and even if she were, I think she would rather shoot me than talk to me. Considering that, I'm glad she is not here." Fitz almost laughed, he stopped himself, unsure if that was supposed to be funny. Ward's face was not giving much away, "Honestly, I'm glad you're here. Not how you put yourself here but I do appreciate having you with me. I…" Ward paused, not for dramatics but with a look on his face Fitz could not quite place, something he did not completely understand, before the ex-agent carried on with, "I would have no idea what to do otherwise and fuck everything up worse. With you here, I have a better chance of at least deciding the right thing to do for once."
The scientist must have gaped a moment too long before Ward cleared his throat. His hands moved down Fitz's shoulders to his upper arms, holding his biceps, as he spoke, "Okay. You've seen May do her routine right, the forms?" The topic change was sudden, abrupt, and Fitz did not want to say anything wrong so he just nodded. He let go of it for now though in his head everything Ward just said reverberated wall to wall and made it hard to focus. The scot followed along as the taller man guided one of his arms up in the air, forward from his body, and pushed the other back behind him. Everything about the position felt awkward but he held it through sheer force of will when Ward removed his hands. He felt like a helicopter, a ridiculous one.
"I know all of you thought that was her practicing martial arts; it's really not. The forms are a guided meditation. It is how she stays so focused in combat and ignores pain. All academy trained agents had to practice it but most never really tried." Fitz wanted to ask if Ward was one of those who never did, the other made it sound that way, but he was too busy being a ridiculous helicopter. Fitz did not exercise. He stayed healthy through field operations, forgetting meals while working, and at one point due to Jemma's monitoring his eating habits. Getting a body like Ward or Mack had a never been an aspiration - though he remained eternally jealous. Oh, right, Ward was still talking, "The concept is simply. Focus on repetitive body movements as a way to clear your mind." He did not stop talking when he reached down to push on Fitz's thigh to stop it from bouncing. Training for this exercise was making it hard for Fitz to think, actually. "May would be a better teacher than me but we'll start small with what I know. Okay?", and there was Ward, in the same stance as Fitz, though his arms were not shaking and his balance looked perfect. Not quite Melinda May 'I am a leaf in the wind' perfect but more Grant Ward, 'man of stone'.
Really, what did they do to these people in operations training?
Beyond Ward offering tips and correction, they did not talk during the exercise. The dark haired ex-agent did not seem to want to, maybe still feeling that revelation earlier, and Fitz was too busy trying to 'let his movements flow' to think, much less deal with any more serious issue. He stumbled through the motions with all the grace of a giraffe. At one point, while trying to lift a leg and tent his arms at the same time, the scientist almost went flat on his face. Ward caught him but quickly let go, not allowing for distraction as they continued. Fitz estimated five minutes had passed when he started wanting to die. A couple minutes later, he felt sweat on his brow and remembered why he did not exercise. Attempting to slow down or wipe it away got him chastised by his new 'trainer' and Fitz had to bite back a snappy retort as they continued.
It felt like eternity, during which his arms and legs burned, before Ward pronounced them done.
Fitz did not sit on the couch nearby. He took one step then fell on it, face smushed into the leather cushion, and breathing heavier than he felt he should. Ward wasn't, the man looked perfectly comfortable standing there watching him. That was irritating though unsurprising, and FItz shot him a sour look as the scientist rolled to his side and pulled his legs up on the couch. He had practically fetal positioned himself into a solid ball of exhaustion. Still watching him, Ward settled down the arm of the couch, leaned back with his arm thrown over the top of the furniture.
"If it helps, I swear I'm a nicer teacher than May would be."
Fitz rolled his eyes up at the man, "No, it doesn't, because clearly she is the devil then."
Ward laughed with ernest, "Well clearly. You should try fighting the woman." Fitz was going to say he hoped to never have the honor, continue the joke, but froze when he felt a large hand on his head. It was slow, barely a movement at all, but Ward's hand was on his head and moving. Petting him. There were any number of comments that came to mind about, 'Jemma decided you're the big dog, not me.' but none of them made it out of the scientist's mouth for once. Instead they sat in silence for a moment, Ward's hand still gently moving, and Fitz drew his legs up closer almost abandoning the second cushion entirely. It was...surprisingly comfortable.
So, of course it had to be ruined.
"What about you. Would you prefer Simmons be here?"
Fitz froze, eyes opened wide, and peered up at Ward out of the corner. The other man wasn't looking at him and instead had his eyes locked on the television. It wasn't even on. Outside of his condition Ward had not asked many questions of Fitz. Nothing in depth about the team, barely mentioned them usually, and absolutely zero questions about their operations. Not that this question had anything to do with their operations but it still gave Fitz enough pause to consider.
And Ward waited patiently while he did so.
"I...no. I mean, she is my best friend, even with...this." Fitz did not indicate anything physically, Ward could take it for their current situation or his condition, either worked, though Fitz meant the latter, "She left, you know, shortly after it happened. Assignment, for Coulson, something important. I understood that." He hadn't understood at the time. The first weeks had been rough, mostly him screaming, crying, and cursing at anyone in reach. Stages of grief, Fitz understood them but that had not allowed him to control it. The diagnosis of 'brain damage' had put him in the worst way and none of the team had seemed appropriately equipped to deal with it. Coulson had withdrawn into his work as Director, May with him. Skye hung around for a time after Simmons left but eventually she had to focus on her training with May and did not have time for him. Though, perhaps that had helped, as Fitz never wanted to be a burden. He sighed and Ward's hand slowed, "It didn't matter, understanding it. I just felt alone. Even after I got out of the hospital and back to work. They forced all these assistants in to help me but they just got in the way. Mack helped, he filled in words and ideas when I could not. He translated. But...it wasn't…"
Fitz did not know what else to say and joined Ward in admiring the inactive television.
"If I had not been so damned convinced it would float…"
"Stop." Fitz did not know where he found the ability to be forceful, "It doesn't matter now. I'm…" Fine was too heavy of a word. Better? Improved? Slightly less damaged? The scientist did not know which of those correctly applied to this situation and opted for none of them. Ward's hand started to draw back and Fitz reached up, gripped Ward by the thumb, and pulled it back down. Immediately the touching resumed and Fitz looked up again to realize they both lost interest in the silent, viewless non-show at the same time, and the scot held the other's eye contact.
"I don't blame you."
"You should."
He shrugged into the couch, "Well, I don't. I blame Garrett. I blame Hydra. Even if I should blame you, I don't, and that's it." The others would definitely have disagreed with him. After his injury there had been a week straight where the only topic discussed by his bed was killing Ward. Skye in particular had seemed particularly fond of dropping him in the ocean to suffer the same fate. At the time, Fitz had even agreed on the inside, and yet apparently they had changed now.
"I'm glad I got you out of there."
Ward gave him a look but Fitz, closing his eyes, completely ignored it. The hand didn't stop.
Author Note
Things nearly started happening here but I refrained.
I live in fear of progressing too fast.
Shortest chapter yet, apologizes, mostly groundwork.
Things start happening from here on out.
