Ward was careful with his cash. He never misplaced it, always made sure to keep things affordable, and paid for the cheapest motel in the current city he was in. But he didn't have any source of income, meaning he inevitably ran out of cash.

He couldn't get a normal job, he didn't have time to commit to something like that. He needed something that would pay a lot up front. Which, unfortunately for him, meant it would probably need to be something illegal.

He would keep it clean, minimal casualties, nothing that S.H.I.E.L.D would bat an eye at. But it meant digging up a location from his past, some place Garrett took him once and told him to go if he ever needed some quick cash.

He turned into an alleyway, even if he didn't remember the exact location all he needed to do was follow the smell of alcohol and the sound of raucous laughter. He arrived at the door, reading the name Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Children.

"Bit of a mouthful," he mumbled to himself. He remembered Garrett always preferred addressing it as the Hellhouse. Wasn't a much better name but at least it was shorter.

When he entered the environment was tame. Some of the patrons were still loudly laughing but most were just playing pool or lounging around and nursing a beer. He went directly to the bar, groaning as he sat down. He was nursing a bruised rib from the last encounter with an ex-Hydra agent.

"What can I get you?" The bartender asked.

"A whiskey," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a card, holding it between his index and middle finger. "And a job."

It was a card for a one time job. Garrett gifted it to him when he took him here. He told him that if he was ever strapped for cash that he could use that. Well, he was, and it was the last thing he had that Garrett gave to him and he'd prefer to get it out of his hands.

He didn't hate Garrett, although after a lot of self reflection he realized that he probably should. He molded him into a terrible person, a weapon that he could point and shoot at anything he wanted. But one out of five of his lessons would be things he could still live by today.

One of them was that he should always pay his debts.

When Garrett told him this, he meant him. He meant the debts that Ward owed him. And it was true, he did owe Garrett. But now he owed Coulson for letting him walk and he hoped that helping take down Hydra was a good enough start.

The bartender came back with a whiskey bottle and a glass, setting it down in front of him and pouring him the amber liquid. The bartender waited for him to finish drinking before listing the jobs available.

"There's three jobs available right now," the bartender started. "Assassination, some guy's ex-wife divorced him and took the kids. Payment is fifteen thousand."

"Pass," Ward said without hesitation. There was no chance he was taking on a job like that even before he decided to repent for his sins.

"Next one is some kid, stalking some girl she wants someone to go scare him off."

"How much does it pay?" Ward asked.

"Two hundred and fifty bucks."

"Pass," Ward said. He wasn't gonna be able to scrape by on that amount of cash.

"Last one is some human trafficking thing. Some dad got beat down and his kid got taken. He paid some of the boys to track him down but they wouldn't take the fight with the amount he was offering."

"How much?"

"Twelve hundred."

"I'll take it," Ward said. He decided he'd take it before he even heard about the payment.

"Uh... okay then."

"Why didn't this guy go to the cops?"

"Cops are the ones who took his kid. He got pulled over, they didn't ask any questions, just pulled him out, beat him down and grabbed the kid."

Ward knew the cops were crooked in this part of the city town but he'd never directly heard about the kinds of things they got up to. He hated thinking about how scared that kid would've been in that moment. He couldn't relate to the exact situation this kid was in but he knew what it was like to be scared when he was that young, how helpless he felt when Christian forced him to torment Thomas or his dad beat him senseless.

"What's the location?"

The bartender reached under the bar and pulled out a few pictures of an old, rusted, cargo ship and handed them to Ward.

"It's in the West River harbour. Lots of guys, armed to the teeth."

"Know what kind of firearms they're carrying?"

"Nah, just know the guys said there were assault rifles and a few snipers," he grabbed a glass from beneath the bar and began polishing it. It was a common trick with bartenders, patrons subconsciously don't like when the barman just stands there. "You don't seriously think you can handle all that on your own, do you?"

Ward got up, leaving some cash for the drink before heading for the door. "I'll be back soon," he said as he left.

"That guy took the trafficking job! Place your bets!" The barman announced. Ward heard people getting up and heading for the bar as they got ready to bet on him dying, thinking they'd make some money on some poor guy down on his luck.

He smirked, knowing they'd be sorely mistaken.

He drove to the location and picked out a good vantage point, deciding that the bridge across from the harbour was perfect. It was late enough that nobody would notice him climbing to the arches with a sniper rifle strapped to his back.

A few weeks back he'd gotten his hands on a weapons cache after taking out an old Hydra field agent in his own home. It was a good fight, the man was training to become a specialist before Hydra unveiled themselves but Ward clearly outmatched him. When he investigated the back shed he found a Remington MSR. He greatly preferred the Desert Tactical he used when he was undercover at S.H.I.E.L.D but he felt comfortable with this in his hand. He was thankful that the man also had a suppressor in a drawer in that back shed.

Ward stayed across from the ship, laying flat on his belly and observing the routes the men took. He didn't make his move for almost an hour. He took his time watching their routes, seeing who he could take out without anybody noticing, seeing who's patrols would collide, seeing who would come across a body depending on who he killed.

Eventually, he deemed that there were too many of them for him to kill without anybody noticing but he would be able to kill a fair amount before they took notice.

From what he could see from his vantage point. Three men were stationed in areas that would make them unnoticeable were he to take them out. He supposed they were placed there for that exact reason, to be hard to notice.

He could get through about seven other men before someone's patrol would eventually coincide with a body provided he played his cards right.

He took care of the easy ones first, shooting them cleanly in the head. None of the other guards noticed their bodies.

Now came the more difficult part which was shooting the ones on the move and in the more visible areas. He worked his way through them, taking one out and then taking out the guards that would eventually find the body based on their route.

After taking down the fifth guy he figured he should get over there before someone discovered the body. The whole ship would be thrown into upheaval and it would put him at a disadvantage after everyone abandoned their routes in favour of an unorganized search. Despite the numbers, these guys clearly didn't know what they were doing but rather just thought they did.

Ward drove his car over there - he ended up holding on to the Charger instead of returning it - with his headlights off. He climbed the stairs as quietly as he could and got onto the boat. He immediately shot someone with his silenced pistol after they turned a corner. He turned the corner, raising his gun as someone turned the opposite corner at the same time as him. He fired the shot but the guy was able to take cover before he could nail him. Ward charged and as the second the guy turned back to fire Ward was right there and knocked him over the edge of the boat and into the water.

One guy was completely oblivious to everything and was overlooking the water at the back of the boat, he seemed half asleep at this point which meant Ward didn't even need to be that quiet when approaching him. These guys were probably paid for and cheap considering how easy this was turning out to be. Either that or he was just that good.

His egotistical side went with the latter option.

He kicked the back of the guys knees and placed him in a rear naked choke. Not strong enough to knock him out but still enough to apply pressure and keep him from screaming for help.

"Where's the kid?" Ward growled. He released a slight amount of pressure to allow him to talk.

"Why the hell should I tell you? What's in it for me?" The guy wheezed, struggling to talk through Ward's grip.

"I'll let you take a nap."

"Screw you."

"Whether or not your nap is permanent or temporary depends on your next few words."

"Okay, okay fine," the guy said. Ward could hear some slight fear in his voice which was what he was looking for. "It's not like you'll live anyways. He's in the cargo hold."

"Good boy," Ward said as he choked the guy out. Ward made his way down to the hold and found himself overlooking the area. The kid was sitting down by some crates, his hands were shaking and he saw the remnants of tears on his red cheeks. Ward surveyed the area, there were way too many guys for him to be able to do this stealthily but they also didn't have any guns. Seems that they just armed the guys outside in hopes that it would be enough. Clearly it wasn't.

There was one guy right below the rafters he was standing on so Ward hung over top of him and dropped, knocking him out instantly. Someone nearby heard the noise and game to investigate and Ward immediately charged him, knocking him into some crates that remained imobile and landing a quick hook before grabbing him in a hold and aiming his gun at the people coming in his direction. He shot the three men coming towards him in the head before aiming his gun on the person he was using as cover. Evidently his mag was empty now and that was the last of his bullets. Ward groaned and hit the guy over the head with the handle of his pistol before shoving it back into the waistband of his jeans.

He hopped over some old crates, landing a punch on one guy and ducking the punch of someone coming up behind him. He grabbed a glass - someone was probably thirsty - and smashed it over the head of the guy who just tried to punch him and then used one of the shards to slice the other guy's neck.

The final man came charging at him with a knife held in an icepick grip, he raised it above his head and tried to bring it down on Ward. This man clearly didn't have much knowledge in knife fighting because Ward was able to quickly sidestep his attack and allowed him to embed the blade in the crate. Ward then smashed the man's head on the handle of the knife and knocked him out.

Despite not understanding how to use it he didn't mind the guys choice in weaponry.

"Ka Bar," Ward commented as he took it out of the box and found the holster for it. It would be a nice addition to the weaponry he carried around with him.

He looked over to where he'd last spotted the kid and saw him cowering behind one of the crates. Ward sighed, realizing that he just witnessed men being shot in the head and dying. This kid had already been through way too much for how old he was, he would definitely need therapy after this was all set and done.

Ward approached him, kneeling down and getting a better look at the boy. He was probably no older than eight, looked relatively unharmed which was a really good sign.

"A- are you here t- to save me?" The kid asked.

"Yeah," Ward said softly. "Yeah, of course."

"Are you a superhero?" The kid asked with a slight look of admiration in his eyes.

No. Superheroes are people that kids should look up to. Superheroes are examples or the best of humanity. I'm one of the worst people you'll ever meet.

"No, just a guy." Ward tried offering him a comforting smile and offered his hand. The boy took it and rose to his feet, continuing to hold Ward's hand as he guided him to the outside of the ship. "So what's your name?"

"Thomas," the boy answered.

Just my luck.

"I'm Grant."

"Are you taking me to my daddy?"

"Yeah," Ward answered, then he heard the kids stomach growl. "You hungry?"

The kid nodded, rubbing his stomach with his free hand. Ward reached into his back pocket and checked his wallet. He had fifty bucks and a picture that he didn't have the strength to get rid of despite how much it hurt to look at.

"Do you like McDonald's?" At the mention of the restaurant Thomas' eyes lit up as he nodded vigorously. "Okay, we'll grab some on the way to see your dad."

The kid instantly had a smile on his face and it made Ward happy that he was seemingly able to get the terrible situation off of Thomas' mind, at least for a little bit. They arrived at Ward's car and he opened the back door for Thomas to get in.

"Do you think I could be like you when I grow up?"

That question broke Ward's heart and filled him with pride all at once. He'd never had someone idolize him like that, and if he did they eventually discovered who he really was. If this kid knew about the things he's done he wouldn't think that way. He didn't want to tell him that so he settled for something else.

"You'll be better than me."

After stopping by the McDonald's drive thru and getting Thomas a happy meal he called the number of the bar, telling the bartender to get the dad over there and that he's got the kid with him. When he arrived Thomas rushed to his dad's arms with his power rangers happy meal toy in hand.

"Thomas! Oh thank god, oh thank god," he mumbled into Thomas' shoulder.

Ward looked on with mixed feelings. He was undeniably happy that he was able to bring this man his son back and seeing them embrace brought a smile to his face. But it also brought this feeling of longing. The love between a parent and a child was something he never had and something he never would. For a time he hoped Garrett had felt that way about him, he hoped that when Garrett called him 'son' that he meant it. It took him far too long to realize that he didn't.

The man came up to him next and Ward was expecting a handshake and a pat on the shoulder but instead the man pulled him in for a hug. Ward wasn't really sure what to do, people didn't hug him often and whenever they did he usually used it for manipulation, physical contact was a quick and simple way of establishing a connection. He kept his hands at his sides.

"Thank you," the man said with a shaky voice before realization flashed across his face. "Oh. You'll probably be wanting this."

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a stack of cash. Ward knew he needed the money but it felt wrong to take money from this man who had to experience having his son taken from him not so long ago.

"You know what," Ward said. "It's okay."

The man looked at him with shock. He probably didn't expect a mercenary to be one to turn down money.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," Ward gave him a reassuring smile just to be safe before he wiped it away when he realized something. "Actually, you know what? Wait here."

Ward made his way to the bar and entered to see the glares of everyone in the bar minus the bartender who seemed ecstatic at his arrival.

"There he is! C'mon have a seat!" He yelled, already grabbing him a whisky. "This drink is on the house. Everyone here hates you, you cost people a lot of money. Not me though. I said screw it, took a gamble and bet on you to make it back."

"I get a share don't I?" Ward asked, grabbing the glass and downing it in one gulp.

"Of course, of course. Twenty five percent." He opened a safe behind the bar and dropped a stack of cash in front of Ward.

"How much is this?" Ward asked in astonishment.

"Five grand. People thought you were a sure win to die."

Ward smiled and left the bar to head back to Thomas and his dad. He kept two grand for himself - he wasn't an idiot, he still needed money - and handed the rest over.

Thomas' dad stared down with eyes the size of saucers. "I can't accept this."

"Please, you need it more than me." He could tell the father wanted to take it. He had the look of a man that was barely scraping by. Five o'clock shadow, shaggy hair, one of his pockets had a hole in them, and his shoes were old leather with scratches all over the toes.

He reluctantly accepted Ward's offer and pulled him in for another hug which Ward reciprocated this time.

"I'm taking him out for lunch tomorrow at Morgan's diner. You should join us."

"Oh... I don't know."

"Please, Grant! Could you please come to lunch!" Thomas demanded rather than asked.

He was reluctant. He thought back on all the personal relationships he'd had in the past and the way they all fell back on him.

There are things about me that you wouldn't like if you knew.

He was looking to be a different person now, a better person. Part of that meant he should open up to people and make friends. This guy seemed nice and he certainly liked Thomas. He wouldn't mind grabbing a bite to eat.

"You know what, sure."

As they drove away he looked down at his phone. Now he had two contacts: S.H.I.E.L.D. and Matthew - Thomas' dad. It wasn't much but he thought it was a good start.