Chapter 21 - Team SHIELD
Events of this chapter occur from just before the beginning of season 2, through episodes 1 and 2, and may include dialogue from those episodes.
Brock was actually able to stay at the Playground for a few weeks this time, Coulson making good on his promise to let him have as much time as possible with Skye. He still took day trips out to go communicate with Morse, Simmons, Deathlok and the other agents he was running as Coulson's field agent handler, but he was back in bed with Skye every night, and could honestly say that he'd never been happier in his life.
A couple of weeks after Mack arrived, Hartley came back in with another couple of guys. The first was a dark-haired, clean-shaven man who Hartley introduced as Idaho. Skye's impression of him was quiet but competent; Brock noted some of the telltale signs of an operative, but knew that he was primarily a merc. He'd encountered Idaho before, though not with Hartley, and knew he was a good man to have around.
The other man was definitely a merc. Lance Hunter was a former British SAS officer, with sharp features and an even sharper wit. Brock was highly amused to learn from Hartley that this was Morse's ex-husband. He kept it to himself, though; mostly because most of the people on the base hadn't even met Morse yet.
When Hunter was brought in so Billy could make him a lanyard, Skye was actually in her office for once. Fitz was happily tinkering in the lab with Mack and she figured it would be better to let them work in peace. Mack seemed to be good for Fitz. The two of them were on the same wavelength. Brock was out on one of his day-trips, so she planned to focus on Coulson's research for a while.
"Well, hello there," Hunter greeted her as he waited for Billy.
She looked up at the unfamiliar voice with a British accent, but a lot looser than Jemma's proper English speech, and gave him a polite smile. She saw Izzy out in the front office and waved before returning her attention to Hunter. "Hello. You must be one of the other contacts Izzy said she was seeking out."
Hunter nodded. "Hunter. Lance Hunter. And you are?"
"Skye," she responded, trying not to be too distracted from the search she was running.
An eyebrow quirked and Hunter asked dryly, "Skye? That's it?"
"Unless you want to call me Agent Skye, then yes. That's it. No snappy codename as yet," Skye's tone was just as dry. She finished up the line of code and set it to run, then looked up to focus properly.
"Not much for names, are you sweetheart?"
Skye rolled her eyes. "First of all, don't call me 'sweetheart' 'cause there's only one man who gets to do that, and my soulmate is rather the possessive sort. Secondly, not that it's any of your business but I'm a frigging orphan. So no, I don't have a last name. Deal with it."
"Hey, easy now. I didn't mean to give offense." Hunter held his hands up, signaling surrender for the moment.
"Lucky for you, I'm fairly difficult to actually offend." Skye smirked. "Welcome to the Playground."
"What's your specialty, then?" Hunter asked, curious.
"Computers. I'm the team hacker."
"Handy. Never know when you're gonna need more information than you've got," he commented with a brief smile.
"I do what I can," she answered with a grin.
"So, possessive soulmate, huh? Anyone I know?"
She grinned. "Perhaps you've met him. Agent Rumlow."
Hunter backed up so fast he almost fell over his own feet. "What? The terrifying dude? Stone-cold killer Rumlow is your soulmate?"
"I really don't think I want to ask why he has that reputation," Skye said, "but yes."
"Holy shit," Hunter's eyes moved over her again, but she could tell it was a more assessing stare. "And now I have the feeling that I just massively underestimated you and you're way more dangerous than you look. Iz, help, I'm scared," he called over his shoulder.
Hartley came in, brows raising. "What did Skye say to you? Don't tell me you were stupid enough to make a pass at her."
"Well, I was kind of working my way up to it when she dropped the bomb that Rumlow is her soulmate and now I'm terrified of her too."
Skye found herself giggling at his nonsense. "I'm not scary. I'm not even a fully qualified field agent yet."
"You don't get to be soulmates with a guy like Rumlow without being a deeply terrifying person," Hunter shook his head. "If it's all the same to you, I'll just keep on being quietly terrified."
Skye and Hartley laughed together, and Hunter smiled in a tense sort of way. "You giving them the tour, Izzy?" Skye asked when they'd calmed down.
"Yep. Wanna tag along?"
Skye just grinned. "Sure. Maybe I can prove myself harmless along the way." She quirked an eyebrow at Hunter, then stage-whispered to Hartley, "It's always better when they underestimate me."
Hartley just laughed again and waited for Skye to lock down her computers before following them out of the room. Hartley introduced Idaho while Hunter muttered to himself about innocuous-looking agents.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxox
Hartley and her small team were only around for a couple of days before Coulson sent them back out again. A lot of SHIELD tech was starting to turn up on the black market, sold by former agents turned rogue operators, and they really didn't want some of the stuff out there generally available. There were far too many folks who would turn the tech to seriously bad use.
"I'll have May service the dead drops for a few days," Coulson said to Brock one day as they pored over reports in his office, "I need you to come on a trip with me."
"Mm-hm, where are we going, boss?" Brock lifted his head to look at Coulson.
"London. I want to see if we can track down Agent 33 - last word we had put her there - and I want to make contact with Thor."
A little surprised, Brock blinked. "You're re-opening contact with the Avengers? Great idea, sir, it's about time they learned you were still alive…" he trailed off, because Coulson was shaking his head.
"I'm not ready to do that, no. However - you are also a conduit to the Avengers. You've worked closely with Cap, Romanoff, Barton and this new guy the Falcon. If you reach out to Cap, he'd vouch for you to Thor."
Brock swung gently on his chair, eyes on Coulson. "And who exactly do I tell them that I'm working for, sir?"
"The new SHIELD director, who was appointed by Fury, but who is keeping his identity covert because HYDRA would just love to take him out," Coulson responded promptly. He'd obviously thought it out already.
"All right," Brock said after a moment. "If they have a way of contacting Fury - and I suspect Romanoff, at least, might - they can confirm that anyway. But I have the feeling that all this secrecy might come back to bite you in the ass one of these days, sir. Keeping too many secrets was how Director Fury operated, and in my opinion it's one of the things that made it so easy for HYDRA to hide in plain sight within SHIELD all that time."
Phil hesitated, then nodded. "Your opinion is noted, Agent Rumlow. Thank you for your advice."
Brock sighed and got to his feet. "London here we come, then. When are we leaving?"
"Tomorrow morning. Flying commercial, I'm afraid, so no weaponry. Here's your cover ID," Coulson tossed him a package. "Skye's finest work, as usual."
"But of course." Brock grinned proudly. "Well at least you've given me time to say a proper goodbye this time, Coulson."
"I don't want to hear about it," Phil rolled his eyes, "just don't break the bed again. Our budget won't stretch to replacing it every time you and Skye have reunion or farewell sex."
Brock laughed on his way out the door. "Don't worry about it, boss. Last time we broke it, I researched where Stark ordered Cap's furniture from. I can pretty much guarantee we're not gonna break this bed."
xoxoxoxoxoxoxox
Two weeks later, Coulson returned. Skye had hoped Brock would be back with him, but she didn't have time for disappointment. She, May and Trip were sent out to back-up Hartley's team on a risky deal. Though Skye was a little nervous about functioning as a full field operative, May assured her that she was far enough along to be able to cope.
She'd trusted May this far. There was little point in doubting her now.
Off on an op, she texted Brock. I'll let you know when I'm back.
She'd just finished getting geared up when her phone pinged. Be careful.
She smiled and turned off her phone. She'd take it with her just in case, but she couldn't risk it going off at a bad time.
She didn't remember to turn her phone back on until she was in Izzy's room, packing up the woman's personal things. There were no messages, but she couldn't help but remember that Brock and Izzy had seemed friendly, if not friends. As much as she hated being the bearer of bad news, she couldn't imagine letting her soulmate find out from anyone else.
She hit Brock's speed-dial before she had fully made the decision to call him. It only rang a couple of times before he picked up. "Skye? Something wrong, sweetheart?" He sounded alert but as if she'd just woken him up.
"Shit, I'm sorry, I forgot the time difference." She sighed. "Though I probably would've woken you up regardless."
"What is it?" he asked, concern echoing at her through the bond as much as through his voice.
"We had some… problems on the most recent mission," she told him softly, working to stay calm the way May had taught her. "Izzy didn't make it, Brock. We lost her and Idaho."
She heard him curse under his breath, but when he spoke again his voice was gentle. "Are you doing okay?"
"Yeah, for the most part. I wasn't there when it happened; my team is fine. I just remembered that you two were kinda friends, and I thought you should hear it from me rather than in a report. Or worse, not know at all until the next time you're here and run into Hunter."
"I really appreciate it, sweetheart." His voice was soft, loving… almost enough to break through her emotional control. But she didn't have time for tears right now. She'd wait until she had downtime - preferably with Brock there - to let some of it out.
"You're welcome. I'll let you go back to sleep now; I have some things to do."
"Skye… I know May is teaching you to control your emotions, but remember that you can't keep everything inside forever."
She smiled a little. "I wasn't planning to try. Just thought I'd wait for you; you're the best emotional reliever that I know."
He chuckled and she could just picture him nodding. "Okay. You get your work done and I'll see you soon. I love you, Skye."
"I know. I love you too, Brock. Be careful out there."
"I promise."
She disconnected the call and put her phone away before returning her attention to Izzy's belongings. Shortly thereafter, she was joined by Hunter as she looked at a photo. "Izzy's sister. Jane."
xoxoxoxoxoxoxox
Brock put the phone back down on the bedside table and cursed long and low. After a few moments he picked it back up again.
"Yes," Coulson's voice sounded wearier than ever.
"What the fuck, Phil?"
"Ah, you've heard."
"Skye and I don't keep secrets, you know that. She's upset, she called me. Now what the fuck went wrong? Because you and I both know that if you lost Hartley and Idaho, it could just as easily have been Skye and any other team member, and that's not fucking cool with me. What the hell was this op and why didn't you call me in for it?" Brock tried not to shout, but he could feel his rage simmering higher with every moment.
He heard Phil's sigh. "Things go wrong, Rumlow. This time - things went very wrong. I never expected..."
He could hear the grief in the other man's voice. It made him soften, a very little. "Shit goes wrong, Phil. Agents get killed. Does Morse know yet?"
"Oh God, no, I haven't - haven't had a chance to tell her. She'll be devastated…"
"I'll do it," Brock said quietly. "I'm about done here. Agent 33 has vanished, no trace of her. HYDRA must have got to her first. And Thor's on side, cautiously. He doesn't want to draw a lot of attention to himself, but he is planning to stay in London for now, not go back to New York with the other Avengers, so he'll be willing to help out on this side of the pond if it comes to something that needs his particular brand of smash and blast."
"That's good, that's very good to hear," Phil said. He sounded so exhausted, Brock couldn't help but ask;
"Are you all right, Director?"
Coulson actually hesitated before responding. "I'll talk to you about it when you get back. There's something that you and Skye probably need to know. I - I've not really been able to tell you about it before now. And I can't tell you over the phone, I'll need to show you."
"I am really not liking the sound of that," Brock said.
Coulson chuckled bitterly. "Go see Morse, Rumlow. Check on Simmons for me too, please, make sure she's eating something healthy, she's a typical scientist, forgets to put enough nutrition in her body unless sternly reminded."
Brock grinned. "I know the type. Acknowledged, sir, I'll make sure she gets at least one decent meal. I'll be in touch once I've seen the two of them." He hung up and lay back on his uncomfortable hotel bed, staring at the ceiling. After a few minutes he sighed and got up, started to pack the few things he had out of his bag. He'd get no sleep tonight anyway, thinking about the what-ifs. He might as well get a move on, see how soon he could get on a flight to Chicago.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxox
Brock was actually impressed by Simmons' reaction when she caught him in her apartment. He'd been less impressed by the contents of her fridge. "Beer and sriracha?" he said, shaking his head at her. "That's all? What kind of diet is that?"
She rolled her eyes at him, putting her gun away. "If my diet's such a concern, then perhaps dead drops shouldn't involve fast food?"
Brock frowned thoughtfully. "We'll revisit that protocol," he murmured. McDonald's were awfully convenient dead drop spots, but she was probably right. It made her look like a fast food junkie. "In the meantime, Coulson told me to make sure you got at least one decent meal. Grass fed steak, fingerling potatoes, organic kale. It's basic, but I do good basic." He took one of the bottles of beer from the fridge and handed it to her. "I'll cook. You debrief."
She told him about Donnie Gill while they ate. Brock listened intently, remembering what Skye had told him about the young Academy student turned Gifted. He didn't like the sound of what Simmons was telling him at all. Not with Whitehall and Bakshi involved. If they got their hands on Gill and subjected him to that ghastly brainwashing process, they'd have a terrifying weapon. He didn't mention it to Simmons, not wanting to frighten her. Inside HYDRA's labs was actually the safest place for her, in the circumstances.
Jemma asked about the others, but he could see the look in her eyes, the need to know about Fitz.
"Skye tells me he's doing okay. Getting better." Brock hesitated. Giving comfort wasn't exactly part of his skill set, but… "You did the right thing, leaving, Jemma. You can't give him what he wants, and believe me I understand why. He needs to stand on his own two feet, and he will. In time."
xoxoxoxoxoxoxox
The meeting with Morse the following day promised to be a good deal less pleasant. Brock arranged a meeting with her; dropping into her apartment unannounced would cause far more commotion than either agent needed.
He waited for her at a tiny restaurant in the Chinatown area, which happened to have the most authentic Chinese food Brock had tasted in the US. He ordered a variety of dishes, saying that he knew what his guest would enjoy when she arrived. Which he did, but not for the reason he figured the wait-staff was assuming.
"Sorry I kept you waiting," Morse said when she arrived, exactly on time. She accepted the fresh cup of tea the waitress brought her and murmured a thank you in Mandarin.
"Not a problem. Food should be arriving shortly; I figured we could share." He smiled at her and she took his hand, both of them easily adept at pretending to be more familiar than they were. She passed over a small data chip in the process; far easier at the moment than a dead drop.
"Of course. So, what brought you all the way here in person?" she asked in a low voice, pitched to avoid carrying far.
Brock hid a grimace, but his eyes when he met hers were regretful. "I'm here to be the bearer of bad news, I'm afraid," he answered in a similarly low tone.
She frowned. "What kind of bad news?"
"The kind no one ever wants to hear," he began, then paused. "Hartley and Idaho. I don't have the details, only that a project went south in the worst kind of way. Hunter's still with the team, though; we didn't lose everyone."
Grief flashed across her face, quickly followed by a silent agony and then hard-edged anger before her expression closed down entirely. She shut her eyes tightly and took several deep breaths. Her eyes opened when their food arrived and she dredged up a polite smile for their server.
"When you find out, I want to know what happened," Morse said quietly as they began to eat.
"Shouldn't be a problem," he agreed. "If it makes you feel any better, I only know right now because my soulmate called me. She was upset; fortunately, the boss understands that we don't keep secrets from each other. He called me in to let you know and then to head back for a bit."
"Was she there?" From everything she'd heard, Morse figured that Brock's soulmate was still new enough of an Agent to be taking it hard.
"Not to see what happened; I don't know anything more than that. The teams were split up, was the impression I got."
Morse nodded and they ate in silence for several minutes. Though she hid it well, Brock could still see the hints of fury and grief in the other agent's eyes. "Thank you for staying to tell me," she said finally. "I know a lot of people who would have left it for me to find out after this job is done."
"She was your friend and partner," Brock replied, his expression sympathetic. "You deserved better than that."
She smiled in response. It was a small, sad smile; probably the most genuine expression he'd seen on her face since she arrived, with the exception of her grief-stricken one for those few seconds it took her to hide away.
Small talk filled the rest of the meal; Morse began to tell stories of Hartley from back when they first met. Off-the-clock stories, of course. Brock listened quietly, occasionally asking questions; letting her get some of it out of her system before she had to resume her mission persona.
"Keep a watch on Simmons," he said, just before they went their separate ways. "She's not used to undercover, and it's taking a toll on her. We haven't risked telling her about you in case she gets picked up and gives you away before you can get her out."
"I've barely seen her," Morse shrugged. "And if she doesn't know about me, paying attention to her now will freak her out worse. I'll keep an eye out, but from a distance. I know that she's not suspected of anything, not at the moment. Her supervisor's an idiot, plus he keeps trying to take credit for her work, I can tell you that too. I'll keep Coulson's precious little scientist safe, Rumlow, don't worry."
xoxoxoxoxoxoxox
He was almost back to the his hotel before it occurred to him that there'd been genuine venom in her voice when she said Coulson's name. Well. She barely knew him, and it was quite possible that at this point, she blamed him for Hartley's death. Brock wasn't at all sure yet that it hadn't been Coulson's fault. He shrugged off his concern. Morse would find out soon enough that Coulson's heart was in the right place. Anyone spending enough time with him would be able to see that.
The phone rang just as he got to his room; it was Coulson.
"I need you to pull some strings," Coulson said without preamble, "Call Rogers if you have to. Things have got complicated. Hunter cut a deal with Talbot and I'm going to better it, but part of the offer is a proper military funeral for Hartley. I could possibly arrange it but it might be better if you do it."
"All right," Brock said quietly. It was the least Hartley deserved. "Arlington?"
"If possible. Let me have the details."
"What about Idaho?"
"He had family; his parents are alive. Trip's flown the body back to them and I've taken care of funeral expenses. Just Hartley."
xoxoxoxoxoxoxox
They met a few days later on a hillside overlooking the grave where Hartley's family mourned. Hunter was there too; standing beneath a tree a little further down the hill. He made no move to join the family, but Brock and Coulson watched as he broke into Jane Hartley's car and hung a pendant from the rearview mirror.
"I'll go talk to him," Coulson said. "I think he's still kind of scared of you."
"Smarter than he looks, then," Brock said dryly, folding his arms. He watched and waited while Coulson and the mercenary talked. And finally, they came walking back up the hill together.
"Welcome to the team?" Brock made it a question.
"Yay for Team SHIELD," Hunter said sarcastically, but there was a half-smile on his face. He glanced back down at Jane Hartley, walking to her car. "Iz would have wanted me to do this," he said finally. "And I owe her my life too many times over not to. So yeah." He accepted Brock's outstretched hand. "I'm in."
It's actually been really interesting for us to use Rumlow to fill in the way we think some things might have gone down that we never saw on screen. Bobbi's reaction to Hartley's death was one of those things.