Project Codename: Hellfire

by ButtonPusherExtraordinaire

What if the killing of Donnie Gill evokes a more vulnerable, open Skye concerning Ward? What if Fitz's actions in Vault D invites a different, blunter Ward? What if Ward was more than he appeared, although he remains unaware? Events change, leading to a different future and fate. A more realistic, logical take on Grant Ward and an espionage/sci-fi-like world. Season 2 AU!

11. Chapter 10

Thanks for the reviews, everyone! It really makes my day when I see one and helps a lot with feedback.

Sorry for the long wait, but here it is. This chapter was killing me, and nothing was coming out right for a really long time. Shameless plug: I wrote out an AoS chapter for another story, which I posted - called Comply or Choose - and that seemed to finally get my creative energies in their proper gear. Anyway, I'm satisfied with how this one turned out. Hope you enjoy this monster of a chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. or any of the characters therein the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"This is a warzone!"

"I've already met my quota for Hydra kills for the year! Maybe ever! And I've got more coming!"

"Director Coulson! Are you there? This is a shitstorm! It's every-man-for-himself!"

"Director, are you there?"

"Motherfucker! They got him! They killed Director Coulson!"

"Continue to push! This is our chance to destroy Hydra! We're gonna make it! We've got Captain America and Black Widow!"

"And The Winter Soldier! That motherfucker's popping heads like grapes! I've seen it!"

"Stay out of his way, and we'll be fine! He hates Hydra more than anyone! He'll die before someone steals his vengeance!"

"Oh, shit! There are so many bodies here. This really is a tomb."

"Fuck! I'm hit! I'm hit!"

"Keep going! We'll get 'em on the ropes!"

Mack listened to the many conversations through the comms, glancing at the clock. It was almost time.

"Do you think everyone will make it?" Simmons asked quietly next to him.

He glanced at her, taking in her anxious face. "I don't know. It's going to be tough."

There were only a few dozen people left on the base, including themselves; everyone else had left to deal with the hopeful Hydra extermination.

It was the perfect opportunity.

Simmons's fingers nervously tapped the table. "I want Ward dead, but if he dies, what will happen to Skye?"

Mack shrugged. "I hardly know her. Only you could figure that out." Looking at her pale face, he nodded in realization. "And you've already figured it out, haven't you?"

"It's appalling, but she loves him," Simmons whispered, the words confused but resigned. "I know she does. She always… gets a look in her eyes when talking about him. Even after the Hydra reveal, she still thought about him constantly - but with rage instead of love. Then when I came back from Hydra, it changed. She changed. Ward manipulated her- "

"I know he's the best," he interrupted, "but I'm not sure you're giving Skye enough credit. Don't you trust her judgment?"

Simmons shook her head stiffly. "Love is in direct opposition to reason. One cannot judge clearly when under Love's intoxicating effects. Ward preyed on her love for him, and he used her to escape, knowing she would help him."

Mack raised a brow. "Look, I trust Tripp and Morse's judgment about Ward's escape more than your theory. They are Specialists; they know a hell of a lot more about that type of stuff than either of us. If they say Ward escaped on his own without Skye's help, I believe them. Skye was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"But the right place at the right time for Ward," Simmons emphasized, eyes drifting across the room to Fitz, who tinkered with several tools, not paying attention to them. "Everything wrong that happened to us was at the right time for Ward. He was our friend, part of our family, and he betrayed us all for a bloody monster."

"I think Skye knows that," Mack said slowly, considering. He had never really ruminated on Ward, only on the threat he represented and the possible benefits of employing him for Director Gonzales.

"She knows of her love for him," Simmons corrected softly, voice pained. "She's like Romanoff is with… him." The sudden terror in Simmons's eyes more than alerted him of who she alluded to. "They're both blinded by their feelings that they fail to see the monsters Ward and his father are."

He couldn't blame her for her fear of The Winter Soldier, for Mack felt the same way. The Winter Soldier terrified him like no one else alive. Not even The Hulk scared him like Captain America's best friend and Romanoff's lover. Because The Hulk would administer a quick death, but The Winter Soldier would drag out torture for months or years. The Hulk was ruthless rage, but The Winter Soldier was seething hatred.

Mack was beginning to understand that there was a major difference - rage fizzled out where hatred intensified.

"But are you blinded by your feelings?" he asked quietly, gesturing toward Fitz. "I can't imagine how horrifying it was for you, but has that experience blinded you to thinking rationally about Ward? I know you don't want to hear it, but Tripp's reasoning makes a hell of a lot of sense. If Ward's so good, and we both know he is, why didn't he just simply put a bullet between your eyes when he had the chance, and because Ward's so good, we both know he had countless chances to?"

Simmons stared at him, eyes swimming with tears. "I don't know," she hissed out, scrubbing at her eyes, face spasming with so much chaos. "I just- … All I know is what Ward's actions were, Mack, and they speak a lot bloody louder than his words."

Mack swallowed, and he suddenly found that he was about to damn himself in Simmons's eyes. "I think I'm starting to realize what Ward felt."

Simmons stared at him, bemused. "What are you talking about?"

He glanced toward the cameras and saw the true S.H.I.E.L.D. waiting outside the base's doors. "I'm sorry about this," Mack said and opened the base's doors for Director Gonzales.

The blood drained from Simmons's face as she stared at the monitors, watching the true S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents sweep through the base. She whirled to face him with betrayed fury. "Traitor! How could you?"

Mack sighed. "I'm doing what I have to, Simmons. I have orders."

Simmons sneered. "I never accepted that answer from Ward, and you are much less convincing."

Suddenly, she lunged at him, eyes extended towards his eyes, and Mack narrowly fell back, avoiding a lethal blow. Sensing Simmons's motivations, seeing her grab his gun, his eyes widened, and he dove forward, slamming into her, smashing her back into the table.

She gasped, dazed, and the gun fell from helpless fingers. Mack quickly found his I.C.E.R., fired it, and Simmons collapsed, unconscious.

"Mack?"

He stiffened and turned around to see Fitz staring at him, confused. "I'm sorry, Turbo," he whispered. "But just stay there, alright? I'm not going to hurt you."

Fitz blinked at him, tilting his head. "But you hu- hurt Simmons."

Mack glanced down at Simmons. "No, she's fine. She was getting riled up. I couldn't have that."

Fitz peered at him with those calm eyes; it was unnerving. "Ward ne- never hurt Simmons."

"Not physically," he clarified. "He damn sure hurt her emotionally."

"Are you- you Hydra?"

Mack immediately shook his head, adamant. "No. I'm part of the true S.H.I.E.L.D., and the true Director will be here any second. Director Gonzales actually has his head on straight, unlike Coulson, who's lost his marbles."

Fitz looked down. "Was it… real?"

"What?" he asked, frowning.

"Was it all… an act?"

Mack sighed in realization. "Of course, it was real. You're my friend."

"I don't… believe you."

He tensed, hand gripping his I.C.E.R. tightly. "You're in shock."

Suddenly, Fitz glared at him with fire, and Mack took a step back. "At least wit- with Ward it was… it was real. Ward is… he's loyal to… to people. You are loyal to an… an idea."

Mack frowned and felt discomfort. "Ward was Hydra, Turbo. I'm still part of S.H.I.E.L.D., I always have been."

Fitz's eyes were knowing, and he couldn't look away. "Ward was loyal to- to his father-figure, and now he's… loyal to Skye - people. You only know… an idea. Ward betrayed us… for love. He betrayed us for… his father-figure. You betray us for an idea."

"Ideas are more loyal than people."

"Most ideas don't… work," Fitz said slowly, struggling with the words. "Most ideas don't deserve to be… to be uttered."

Mack shrugged. "I don't believe that. Maybe one day you'll see the truth."

"I… already see it."

Suddenly, Director Gonzales walked into the room with dozens of the true S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents. Mack recognized many of them.

Director Gonzales nodded at him. "Well done, Agent Mackenzie. You have secured our victory over Fury's imposter."

Mack nodded in return. "Thank you, sir. Coulson and his team are engaged with Hydra right now."

"And The Winter Soldier, Captain America, and Black Widow are with him," Director Gonzales finished, lips thinning. "They will fall in line with the true S.H.I.E.L.D."

He wavered. "Sir, you really don't want to piss off The Winter Soldier."

Director Gonzales looked unconcerned. "The Winter Soldier will be incarcerated upon his return to this base. He is a known assassin and must face justice. If he refuses to comply, his son will imprison him for us. Both have the potential to be monumentally useful."

Fitz spoke up. "That is… unwise. Ward won't help you."

"Grant Ward," Director Gonzales murmured, glancing at Fitz. "You consider him a friend despite everything he did to you."

Fitz fearlessly stared back. "It was… real."

Director Gonzales looked grim if not unaffected. "You can't discern real from fictitious because of your brain injury from Grant Ward. Your words hold no weight."

"Neither… do yours," Fitz retorted, standing tall. "You're not the Director."

"He doesn't mean that," Mack cut in sharply. "He's just angry, that's all."

"Treachery continues to endure," Director Gonzales murmured sorrowfully. "Agent Mackenzie, escort these traitors to S.H.I.E.L.D. down to - what did you call it? - Vault D. If it held Grant Ward, it will hold them."

Mack swallowed and complied, picking Simmons up and hoisting her on his shoulder. With his other hand, he grabbed Fitz by the arm.

He led them out of the room.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Steve felt the shaking of the earth, and Mr. Zabo's serene gladness only heightened his anxiety. Initially, the man had been worried, but then he had smiled joyously. Bucky's pace was relentless, and to keep up, Steve had to sling Coulson over his shoulder as they dashed toward the audible chaos. When Sam began to have trouble keeping up, Steve picked him up, too, ignoring his protests.

The keen anticipation wafting off Bucky made him nervous, but he ignored it, knowing that The Soldier would keep Bucky safe. The Soldier was Bucky's protection, not Steve.

Suddenly, the comms erupted in his ears, making him wince.

"Sir, Skye's trapped in the Temple with Raina, who now looks like a giant, human-ish porcupine!"

Coulson answered easily from his shoulder. "Was she harmed, Agent Hunter?"

"No, but she's probably gonna change now! Her gift will be awakened like Raina's was!"

Coulson went rigid. "Can you reach her?"

"She's in the Temple with Raina. No, I can't reach her! I'm still here in the upper caverns with Ward! And he's about to blow a gasket, sir! He's bleeding out, but he won't stop. The stubborn son of a bitch is gonna get himself killed - and I won't take the blame for it! It won't be my fault! You hear that, Barnes?!"

Steve marveled at Agent Hunter's courage.

Bucky - The Soldier - turned to him, eyes blazing with freezing flames. "Obtain Grant, Rogers. Find him."

Steve realized the monumental trust placed in him, putting down Coulson and Sam. "I'll make sure he stops being as stubborn as his father."

A flash of Bucky swept across The Soldier's face before it was gone. "James trusts you."

His throat felt tight, and Steve nodded, locking eyes with The Soldier. An understanding passed between them. "I won't fail," he whispered.

"Go."

Steve took off.

XxXxXxXxXxX

He had failed! He had been too stunned, too fascinated by Raina's new appearance - what the hell had happened to her? - and her prophecies. Then Tripp had triggered the explosions without warning, and the crumbling of ancient stone and rock from the caverns across from them had unleashed death upon thousands of Hydra Agents.

The chaos had blinded him, the smoke and dust filtering to the top, clouding his vision, and he had lost track of Skye! But then he had barely glimpsed her being pulled into the Temple by Raina. Ignoring the mass carnage below, into which Hunter unleashed his ammo, slaughtering everyone possible, Grant moved from his position, legs shaking, sweat streaming down his face.

"Told ya, son," John commented, disappointed. "You're gonna need a new asshole. You can't do shit with your bitch mother's serum making you weak, and those wounds of yours are only gonna get worse before they get better."

Grant crouched and turned, trying to stand up, but he was so weak.

"What the hell are you doing?" Hunter demanded, voice drifting to him over the thunderous cacophony of bullets, explosions, and screams of dying agony from below. "You're not still Hydra, are you?"

"No."

"Then help me kill the sons of bitches!"

His vision wavered, and he understood. He had been in one position too long, had remained too immobile waiting for the Temple to open, not using his body, leading to the disappearance of his adrenaline rush, weakness and pain all that remained. Grant recognized that his body demanded rest to recuperate, to try to maintain internal homeostasis so he wouldn't push his body too hard and go into shock, but he didn't care. He dimly noticed that Hunter was speaking into the comms, but he ignored him, focusing on his body.

Grant hissed through his teeth and with a blood-soaked hand, pushed himself to his feet. "I have to get Skye," he said, the words far away, drifting in the air. "She's what matters."

"Surviving's what matters!" John yelled. "You're gonna get yourself killed!"

Then he stumbled forward, the chaos down below reflected in his body. Every instinct screamed at him to rest, to heal as he had always done in the past, to be practical and rational, but he needed to get to Skye. Raina may kill her, and those spikes could be wielded as deadly weapons! And then he had to keep his promise to Whitehall!

Grant began his pace, stomping his feet, forcing his body to move, blinking rapidly to dissuade the sweat from his eyes, one hand holding his weapon, the other hand gripping his stomach.

Suddenly, Hunter's hand gripped his arm. "I don't know how the hell you're a Super-Soldier and bleeding out, but you are." They both looked down at the blood streaming past his hand in rivers. "You can't do anything for Skye now, Ward. You have to trust us to get to her."

"The hell I will," he snarled. "You'll take her from me."

"I'm not Coulson."

"Tell me why I don't believe you."

Hunter rolled his eyes. "Because you're a distrusting and paranoid motherfucker."

"And you're kind."

"Exactly. We'll get to Skye. You look like you're about to collapse."

With a burst of exhausted strength, Grant shakily ripped his arm from Hunter's grip and stumbled forward. "I'll be fine. Stay here or come with me, I don't care. I'm getting Skye."

XxXxXxXxXxX

The Soldier basked in the glory of slaughter, and he strode across the bodies of all the Hydra Agents, crushing skulls and chest cavities beneath his boots, creating a steady, soothing rhythm, and the agonizing screams of those he killed provided the melody. He was an artist, a composer of death, creating the ultimate requiem for his memory only. Nobody would remember those he slew, but he would remember - and he would remember fondly.

James had freely relinquished control, and he applauded his skills and talents, urging him forward, and The Soldier's refined hatred billowed outward, consuming everyone in his path as he dashed forward, the gasping final breaths and blood spraying into his face spurring him on. Bloodlust swept through him, and in a frenzy, he let himself go. There was no conscious thought, only the pure sensation of killing those who had unmanned him for seventy years. He registered all his attacks, the angle of the bullets, but he defended himself effortlessly, using his bionic limb as a shield, deflected the bullets just perfectly to return to his attackers.

Bullets whizzed past him, but he was unconcerned, for Natalia was a semi-worthy ally.

He would never stop until Hydra was crushed under his feet like the skulls of his attackers.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"You stupid motherfucker!" John roared, stomping alongside him, face twisted with disgust. "You're gonna kill yourself, Romeo! Then what good are you? Take it from me, you can't do shit when you're kicking scorched daisies down in Hell!"

"Shut up," he mumbled, the words heavy on his tongue.

"I didn't say anything," Hunter said, offended.

Grant held a quivering hand against the stone wall. The echoes of the fighting were at once, getting further away but closer at the same time - different directions. "I thought you said something."

"And that's how you would respond?"

"Shut up."

Hunter threw his empty arm into the air in exasperation. "You may be the biggest asshole I've ever met."

"Skye's opinion offsets whatever you or anyone else could ever think of me."

"Lucky bastard."

"I haven't gotten lucky in almost two weeks."

"You're not gonna get lucky ever again if you keep trying to play the hero!" John shouted. "You ain't ever gonna get your noodle wet again, Romeo!"

"That was way too much information. But congratulations. I knew Skye loved you, but I didn't think you'd work so fast. Betrayal's a bitch to deal with."

Grant latched onto Hunter's voice as his vision flickered, trying to maintain his strength, to stay conscious. "Experience talking?"

Hunter scoffed. "Bobbi's always keeping secrets, and they always end up fucking me over. I don't understand that woman."

"She was married to her secrets instead of you?"

"Yes! I'm not sure she even knows how to be honest, at least with me."

"A necessary trait in Specialists."

"You're taking her side?" Hunter asked, aghast and betrayed.

Grant blinked rapidly, keeping himself conscious. "Devil's advocate."

"Well, according to Coulson, you're the Devil himself, so it fits." Hunter's arm abruptly gripped his shoulder. "Shit. You need to sit down. I'm not gonna be the one responsible for you dying. Then Skye would kill me. Not to mention what Barnes would do."

"Not before you do it yourself, son! And if not you, then Hydra, Whitehall, or Phil will pick you off for being so weak!"

"Don't touch me," he mumbled, sloppily lashing out against Hunter's arm. "I need to get to Skye!"

"And how do you suggest we do that, Ward? It's a long way down, and you're barely conscious!"

"Perhaps I can help."

Grant startled at the voice he had heard only on recordings.

John laughed. "You're really gettin' close to death if you're startin' to hear the Boy Scout himself."

But it wasn't a voice or ghost like John. Steve Rogers appeared in front of them.

Silence - filled only by the chaos near the Temple that echoed through the stone chambers everywhere.

"Good," Hunter immediately groaned out in relief, unsurprised and unintimidated by Rogers. "Maybe you can handle this asshole better than I can."

Grant stared at Rogers, observing the uniform he had only ever seen on a video feed. "You look ridiculous."

Rogers stared back at him, and he watched the amazed eyes roam over his face. "You look just like him."

Understanding to whom he alluded, Grant felt irritated. "And you're a Captain without urgency. Hurry up!"

Hunter glanced at Rogers expectantly. "See? An asshole!"

Rogers strode forward and his face pinched at the sight of his injuries. "How are you bleeding so profusely? You're like me and Bucky - a Super-Soldier. You shouldn't be this injured."

Grant ignored Hunter's questioning gaze. "Whitehall's older than both you and dear, old Dad. He's had time to perfect his creativity. Now help me!"

A powerful arm reached out and righted his balance, and Grant felt humiliated, but he felt some of his shame relax when he saw no judgment in Rogers's eyes. "I'm glad I found you before the fleeing Hydra Agents did."

"Good, because you need to take me down there!" he snapped. "I need to get to Skye. Whitehall's after her."

Rogers frowned, piercing eyes latching onto him. "You're in no condition- "

Grant harshly shoved the arm away, but he knew that Rogers allowed it. "I'll take care of me and Skye, you take care of you and everyone else. Isn't that what a hero does, Captain?"

"I believe I'm taking care of you right now."

"Then you'll get a fucking medal or something," Grant retorted angrily. "It can go with all the other ones you got after they pulled your frozen ass from the ice. Take me down there!"

Rogers stared at him before a disbelieving chuckle escaped him. "You really are Bucky's son."

"And if you need to see us side-by-side for further proof, take me down there!"

"The easy way or the hard way?"

"The fast way."

Rogers blinked before sighing. Then he stepped forward and punched through the stone, creating a large hole. New sounds filled the air, and they saw the carnage of the chaos. Grant stared at the visible figure of The Winter Soldier, a powerful but graceful presence with precise movement and calculation, all premeditated and deadly. He had never seen such a fighter, so swift and vicious while possessing incredible grace and dexterity.

Within a minute, his father tore through every Hydra Agent around him - nearly thirty in total. Bullets didn't affect him, and every bullet aimed for his face was deflected by the bionic arm of legend.

Hunter whistled. "Yep. He definitely could have taken out all of us on base. Holy shit."

Rogers said nothing, face carved from stone.

Hydra Agents ran in terror from The Winter Soldier, but they were gunned down by Romanoff and other S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents who swarmed the area. He watched how Romanoff stayed close to his father, killing anyone who attempted to shoot him from behind, and Grant almost laughed in disbelief. Zenfield had mentioned The Widow who had humanized The Soldier, evoking the idea of securing The Soldier's children for Hydra that was implemented by Zenfield and Grant's mother. Romanoff was clearly The Widow who had humanized The Soldier.

"Damn, son," John said, whistling. "You got Romanoff as your stepmother!"

Grant glanced at Rogers, needing the confirmation. "Romanoff and The Soldier, explain that."

Rogers's face cleared. "Bucky went to Natasha with Wanda and Pietro to demand her help. She accepted, and then they came to me and Sam."

He understood. "He went to her before you. That's significant."

"Natasha's a lot older than she looks. She knew Bucky when he was The Soldier for a long time."

"She humanized him, didn't she? They were lovers."

Rogers looked impressed. "Natasha said you were good. I didn't realize she meant this good."

Grant didn't see the point in correcting his perception; he looked back to the battle.

He saw Sam Wilson, Coulson, and what looked like two teenagers - but they were so much more. The boy was faster than anything Grant had seen, faster than a Super-Soldier, and the girl was flinging out her fingers and a red mist smashed into Hydra Agents, knocking them out; she was also floating several feet off the ground.

He saw Tripp, May, and Morse join the fray, having chosen to change the plan, but Grant couldn't blame them. He would do the same if he wasn't weak.

Hydra was dying.

"Can you find your way down, Agent Hunter?" Rogers asked.

"Don't worry about me," Hunter replied, jamming a thumb in Grant's direction. "Bleeding jackass over here was the one slowing me down."

Rogers nodded, and before Grant could react, Rogers's arms enveloped him and they were diving out of the hole into the chaos, the wind painful against his face. Vertigo nearly caused him to blackout because his body was so weak. But then Rogers gracefully flipped in the air and landed harshly but stably, creating cracks in ancient stone.

Grant ripped himself out of Rogers's embrace, stumbling as he tried to find his equilibrium. They were outside of the battlefield and chaos, but it was very close.

"Did that suffice?" Rogers asked, amused.

Grant glared at him. "You're not what I thought you'd be."

"Men of my generation get that a lot."

"You been visiting cemeteries?"

"Yes."

Grant blinked and felt ashamed. "Sorry," he muttered.

Rogers looked past him, face clearing. "You can't fight. Stay here while we finish this."

Then before Grant could respond, Rogers bolted into the chaos, and Grant collapsed, sliding down behind a large rock that had descended from the caverns above from Tripp's explosives, holding his stomach.

"You may kick the bucket before the shot wears off!" John shouted. "You're exposing yourself to death, son!"

"If it means Skye's safe, I don't care."

"She may already be dead, Romeo. It fits with her being Juliet."

The thought of Skye being dead filled him with a fusion of helplessness and rage. "She's not dead. She can't be. I'd feel it, wouldn't I? Isn't that how it works?"

"What the fuck do I know about being in love? None of my girlfriends did it for me."

"Skye's not dead," Grant insisted. "She's a fighter. She'll fight."

"Against Flowers? You saw those spikes, son. What could your girl do against those?"

Grant scrunched his eyes shut. "She's resourceful. I trust in her skill to fend off Raina, but Whitehall is another matter. He'll dissect her just as he did her mother. I won't let that happen. I'd rather die."

"As you're proving right now."

"Shut up, John."

Suddenly, the shadows parted, and he shakily raised his gun as a figure shuffled near him. Grant groaned in disbelief when Skye's father, who still looked radically different, weakly glared at him. Grant lowered his gun and strained, meeting the glare with one of his own, aware of the irony in their shared physical weakness.

"You look like shit," he greeted.

Skye's father gnashed his teeth. "You failed. You were supposed to protect Daisy! I trusted you to keep her safe!"

"What the fuck do you want?"

"This is how you treat the father of the woman you love?"

Grant clawed at his wound, keeping himself awake, the pain instigating consciousness. "Skye doesn't love you, so I don't have to."

"Her name is Daisy!"

"The baby you remember is not the woman she is now," he snapped, wishing he could stand up, but he was rooted in place. "You don't even know her passions and what she loves."

Her father sniffed. "She loves you."

"Don't distract me. You have an idea of who she is, but you don't know her, not the actual woman who is your daughter."

"Tell me who she is."

Grant laughed, the pain growing at the movement, but he couldn't stop. "I'm not going to do your work for you. Stop being lazy."

Skye's father motioned towards his prone form. "Is this not laziness?"

"Put a bullet through those insane eyes!" John urged. "Not even your girl could blame you for it, could she? 'Cause you don't need him anymore for your plan, son. You can destroy Phil and S.H.I.E.L.D. all on your own."

"I'm recuperating," he hissed out. "I once thought I needed you. I was going to use you to destroy S.H.I.E.L.D., but it occurs to me that you're redundant. I don't need you, not anymore. Perhaps I never did. With my strength, and when I get my flames back, I'll raze S.H.I.E.L.D. to scorched dirt. Coulson deserves nothing less. The moment my father and Rogers are done feasting on Hydra, I'm getting Skye with or without your help."

"I commend you," Skye's father praised, surprising him. He collapsed next to Grant, their shoulders nearly touching. "You see what Daisy does not - S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra are the same. Daisy draws a line between them, but they exist on the same line."

"She doesn't occupy the world of monsters," Grant replied. "She doesn't see the world the way we do."

"Only monsters survive."

"I guess I wasn't a monster, then, was I, son?" John asked, peering at him. "Otherwise, I'd still be there with you."

"Very true," he agreed, "but Skye is not a monster, and I never want her to be. I'll be the monster for her so she can live peacefully and be her truest self."

Skye's father slowly turned his bald head, meeting his gaze, eyes locking - weak and exhausted versus weak and exhausted. "May you be a worthier man to Daisy than I was to her mother. It took until Jiaying's death and Daisy's kidnapping until I could be the monster. You have no such problem. I commend you again."

"They could use your monster out there," he said, gesturing to the chaos behind their refuge. "I know you look like shit, but you're not going to join the slaughterhouse?"

"Whitehall has taken my strength from you. I cannot do as I desire."

"Sounds familiar. Did you see where he went?"

"I was separated from Daisy. I only know that she went inside the Temple."

"And that's what you wanted."

"She is achieving her destiny."

Grant hesitated. "If she does… wake up her gift, will she end up like Raina?"

"That'll be just the excuse you need to get rid of your weakness," John hissed, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "If you're no longer taken in by her looks, you'll start thinkin' clearly!"

"Her gift is unique to her, just as Raina's."

"Raina looks like a porcupine now," he said shortly. "And she apparently saw the future. She prophesied to Hydra before the chaos started."

Skye's father nodded. "I can't say what Daisy's gift will be, but she will be beautiful and divine. She will be awakened to the truth of her line imbued in her from her mother. It's everything I've ever wanted for her."

"It's not what she wants."

"Ignorance," Skye's father dismissed, unconcerned. "She doesn't know better, but she will."

"If it comes down to it, I'll take her side over yours."

Skye's father tensed, the lurking madness in his eyes brightening. "You would sabotage her awakening?"

"If it's what she wants. I'll support whatever she wants, and right now, I know she doesn't want to be awakened. You've done a piss-poor job explaining it to her. She doesn't know what it means."

"Because Whitehall stole those moments from us! Daisy must be awakened. I promised her mother!"

Grant nodded. "And I have promises to keep, too. I'm going to keep my promise to support Skye over whatever you think is best. And I swore to Whitehall that I'd rip out his spine if he tried anything, and I'm going to fulfill it. I keep my promises."

Skye's father hissed, glaring at him. "Whitehall is mine! My hatred for him eclipses anyone else's!"

Grant felt a smirk stretch across his face. "May the worthier monster get to him first."

John grinned. "Finally!"

XxXxXxXxXxX

Skye ripped her arm out of Raina's, panicking. "I'm not turning out like you," she hissed out, adamant. "Get me out of here."

Raina stared at her with her eerie smile, the spikes protruding from her body doing nothing to lessen Skye's fear.

"Remain here, listen, and find soothing rest;
The future to you must now be expressed."

She briefly closed her eyes for patience. "Really? You can only speak in riddles now? You know what, don't answer that. I don't wanna hear another riddle." She spied the Diviner in the center console and ripped it out of the stone. Skye ignored the peaceful feelings washing over her evoked by the Diviner; it was trying to deceive her! She wouldn't kill anyone else! She couldn't! "I'm not gonna turn out like you did, Raina."

"The truth of your divine gift will be known:
The pulses of Life yield to you alone.
Accept your destiny, Queen of our race!
You will lead us with your wisdom and grace
Against the Dark One's reign of fear and dread
To save this world from joining the other dead."

Skye stared at her, shaking her head. "I'm not doing this with you. I've already decided. My choice is to not turn out like you. Forgive me if I wish to keep my beauty and ability to talk normally."

"My gift you will never envy nor share.
Your gift differs, and you will remain fair."

"No, stop it," she demanded. "Why would I even believe you? Just stop firehosing me. I'm not talking about this. Tell me about Grant. Is he hurt? Where is he?"

"Grant Ward endures as the undying fire,
Shunning shameful Death with his scorching ire."

Skye sagged in relief. The thought of Grant being hurt or killed had weighed on her, but she had had faith he would survive as he always did. She was glad her faith in him was verified.

She looked around the Temple, finding nothing impressive, but nonetheless, she knew it could fundamentally change her, steal her beauty and ability to talk like a real person. She held tightly onto the Diviner, trying to reject the impulses they imbued her with, but based on the relaxation she felt despite the rumblings outside of the Temple, she failed.

"Is there another way out of here?"

Raina stepped into the shadows, golden eyes all that remained visible.

"From eternal images I survey;
Join the shadows and follow me this way."

Skye hesitated, the yearning of the Diviner assaulting her heart. With the knowledge that Grant was safe and would continue to survive, she felt her anxiety diminish. But yet, she needed more.

"My gift's not like yours?" she asked quietly, staring at the glowing lines of the Diviner, the hum in her blood soothing the conflict in her soul.

"Your gift in your blood will feel like thunder;
At your will, quakes rend the world asunder.
Striking and radiant you shall remain
Where I lost beauty for knowledge's gain."

"Why should I believe you?" Skye demanded, finally tearing her gaze away from the Diviner. "You say I'll still look the same, but… you've never been honest with me. What makes this so different? I don't trust you."

"Your destiny lies in leading our kind
Against It and Its plans of ghastly mind,
From which the evil of Death spawns and springs,
And no more, is there an army of kings
To exile It to a world of barren life,
Releasing our race from the pain of strife.
The burden falls to you and your lover
To defeat It and help us recover."

Skye blinked and felt dread. "Wait. You… really did see the future? What did you see?"

"The images are transcribed with glory,
Foretelling a renowned, potent story."

"And I'm in the story?" she asked rhetorically, trying to comprehend everything Raina - if it was really Raina anymore - was saying. Her gift would be to rend the world with quakes, and she will retain her beauty. It also sounded like she wouldn't be speaking in riddles like Raina now did. She was the Queen of their race, apparently, and she would lead them against the Dark One or something. When did her life get so complicated? "What did you see?"

"A woman on whom triumph is assured;
Through you, the dire war's end will be ensured."

Skye digested Raina's words, ignoring the rumblings outside of the Temple, the muted sound of explosions and bullets. She trusted that Grant would be alright, for she had never met someone as obsessed with survival as Grant - well, maybe Garrett.

"So, we win?" she asked slowly, spacing her words. "You said that… I'm the reason this so-called war will be won? What happens?"

"The terrible union of sweat and blood
Will invoke the ground to shift into mud;
It will be dense with bodies of the dead
As the Dark One rends off many a head.
The scores of corpses inspire a beast;
To defeat It, his strength must be unleashed."

Skye felt a pressure building inside her skull, causing pain behind her eyes, but she blinked rapidly to offset the pain. "What the hell? Why is this Dark One going to attack? And how would he even get off a 'world of barren life'?"

"When joined in unholy union they are,
You will free It and lose a deadly spar.
Harbinger of Death, War, and evil chain,
It will ascend to tyranny again!"

"He - or It - wins?" she asked, aghast, the dread growing. "No, we'd stop him, It, whoever he is. Grant and I would help S.H.I.E.L.D. and The Avengers and anyone to stop him."

"With an existence defined by the dead,
The Dark One grows stronger the more you dread.

"Then what do I do?"

Raina approached her, the spikes on her hands gleaming in the dim light, golden eyes wet with desperate tears.

"I saw the future of barbarous woe;
Now my eyes with grieving tides of tears flow.
It will enslave our people who dispute
Its authority that is absolute.
Only you can set free our enslaved kind!
Oh, I beg you with all my heart and mind
To accept your destiny and grand gift
Before the Dark One evokes Its evil rift!"

Skye hesitated. "I don't know."

Raina gently grabbed her hand, and Skye let her. The spikes were sharp, but Raina was careful, and there was no pain.

"Observe the grief in my eyes and feel dread!
Think of your loved ones, all enslaved or dead!
Conjure the fear and woe, but yield to me,
The first of all mortals in misery!
I saw the future and events of gloom
Leading to consuming War, Death, and Doom!"

Raina kneeled before a speechless Skye and hugged her legs gently but firmly, somehow avoiding injuring her, tears dripping down her face of thorns as she continued:

"My Queen, I kneel and grovel and embrace!
I beg you, thwart the ruin of our race!
All I see are images I abhor!
Accept your grand destiny, I implore!"

Skye gently squeezed Raina's thorny fingers, gripping the Diviner with her other hand. Her decision was made. "Okay."

XxXxXxXxXxX

There was only one left as far as he could tell, and he would get the honor of putting the final nail in the coffin.

Tripp rolled to the side, extending his leg, sweeping the bleeding Hydra Agent to the ground. Immediately, he fired a bullet through the armored head, killing him. He had questioned Morse's decision to join the fighting in the fray rather than maintain the tactical advantage from above, but he understood now. The chaos and destruction had produced many hiding places and dead-spots from above, and the only way to weed out the rats of Hydra was to get his hands dirty.

Based on The Winter Soldier's carnage, there couldn't be that many Hydra rats left. Dead bodies were everywhere, limbs bent in unnatural angles, some headless, some limbless, but everywhere he looked, gore and death met his gaze.

Morality aside, it was damn impressive.

He knew, though, that while his explosives had killed a chunk of Hydra's surprised forces, crushed under the falling stones, rocks, and debris, another chunk had escaped, including Whitehall. When in the caverns above, he had estimated that there could be no more than ten thousand Hydra rats. He knew his explosives had killed at least a third of those forces, and many were wounded, easy to kill. Another third stayed to fight against The Soldier, Romanoff, Captain America, and S.H.I.E.L.D. while the other third had fled with Whitehall.

There was still work to be done, and as the smoke cleared, the sounds of final, guttural croaks of death by Hydra Agents echoing in the air, it became clear how much.

S.H.I.E.L.D. had won a massive victory, but it came with a nearly pyrrhic cost. S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents and Hydra Agents bodies laid together, everywhere, indistinguishable from another to form a mass grave all around him.

Tripp knew there was irony in there somewhere, but he felt too worn and tired to consider it.

Hydra, while experiencing a mortal blow, would still survive. And more importantly, right now, the doors of the Temple were still closed with Skye inside.

Tripp had watched Raina - or what was left of Raina - pull Skye into the Temple in dismayed relief. She would be safe, but would she be changed like Raina? Would his friend disappear into a prophecy-speaking porcupine as Raina had?

Passing crumbled stone chunks, stepping carefully over bodies, Tripp saw a few dozen S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents, The Winter Soldier, Romanoff, Captain America, Sam Wilson, Wanda, Pietro, Coulson, May, Morse, and Hunter congregated near the door of the Temple. Bodies laid around them, but before he could join them, Wanda approached him.

"What's wrong?" he demanded. "Where's Skye?"

She sighed when she reached him. "Inside the Temple, but it's shut. It won't open. I can't get a read, but I know they're there and safe. They haven't killed each other."

Tripp stared at her, bemused. "What are you talking about?"

Wanda blinked before waving her hand casually. "Oh, I read minds. I can feel Skye and Raina inside the Temple, but it's different. I barely register them, like they're almost a void, shielded from what I can perceive."

The fact he readily accepted that Wanda could read his mind concerned him a lot, but there were other matters to attend to. "Sorry if you get nightmares from me," he said. "Where's Ward?"

"My nightmares are not caused by you," Wanda assured. She pointed to a large rock. "Grant is behind there. You should make sure he's okay."

Tripp raised a brow. "Can't you tell from here?"

"He is grievously injured," she disclosed. "I fear his body will begin to fail him. He's lost a lot of blood."

His eyes widened. "Ward? No, that man's a survivor beyond anyone I've ever met besides his old man."

"Exactly. You know him well. I think a familiar face beyond his future father-in-law would be beneficial to him."

"They're engaged?" Tripp asked in disbelief. If Ward managed to pull that off, getting Skye to agree to marry him after everything that had happened, then damn, Ward was even better than he thought.

Wanda's eyes crinkled with warmth. "Just an expression," she dismissed. "But he loves this Skye despite the madness of her father."

"He's definitely mad," Tripp agreed. "I'll go talk to him."

"His mind is… different," Wanda said slowly, brows furrowed. "It may be because his body is preserving strength and energy, starting to shut down nonessential functions, but I can't get much of a read on him. All I know is that he's thinking about Skye."

"Sounds right," he muttered, worry curdling inside him.

Even though he shouldn't care if Ward joined Garrett in Hell, Tripp took off, weaving past bodies and crushed stone slabs. He turned past the corner of a large rock and paused, a small laugh escaping him despite himself. Just as Wanda had said, Ward and Skye's father, who was barely recognizable, sat next to each other, but they almost looked to be supporting each other, keeping their bodies upright by leaning on each other.

Based on the looks on their pale faces, Tripp wasn't sure they were aware of what they were doing. They were fading fast; there were no more adrenaline rushes.

"Should Skye be jealous?" he asked, walking towards them.

"Her name is Daisy," Skye's father said reflexively, the words barely passing his lips.

Ward haltingly raised his pale face; he didn't look good, but Tripp wasn't ashamed to admit he admired Ward's unique ability to strive on, to keep going even when badly injured.

"Did you find her?" Ward asked in a croak, eyes glassy, and blood pooled underneath him.

Tripp had no idea how he was still alive despite being a Super-Soldier. But how was Ward even this injured as a Super-Soldier? "She's still in the Temple, and she's safe. She hasn't been harmed at all, according to Wanda," he answered. "Come on. You need medical attention."

"I'm fine," Ward mumbled, voice barely reaching him. "I just have to hold on until it wears off."

He was about to say something, demand what Ward meant by 'it wearing off,' but footsteps approached from behind.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Footsteps approached them, and Grant managed to accept Tripp's hand, hauled to his feet, finger on the trigger of his weapon - he refused to acknowledge the trembling of his body, the utter weakness plaguing him. Tripp didn't raise his weapon, looking tired, but Grant refused to be taken off-guard. When he fully turned around, it was to the sight of the two teenagers he had seen earlier, and Grant met their inquisitive stares. They were clearly siblings based on their similar facial features.

The girl looked at him strangely but familiarly. "You are so much like your father. Already, you conceive how to dispatch us despite barely being able to think."

"What are you waiting for?" John demanded. "Shoot them!"

Grant tensed, realizing they were more than they seemed. He remembered the boy had been a blur, running faster than anything he had imagined, and the girl had been floating and sending red mist to fling away anyone who attacked her.

"You try anything, I'll stop you," the boy promised, looking bored.

The girl nervously glanced at her brother. "Don't hurt him. Barnes won't be happy."

"He's never happy."

"He is right now," the girl whispered, body stiff. "Slaughtering Hydra brings him joy, unlike anything I've ever felt in anyone else."

Grant cut in, voice shaking in rhythm with his body, "You're with… my father?"

"He saved us from Hydra. I'm Wanda, and my brother is Pietro. We were experimented on by Von Strucker."

"Loki's Scepter?"

Wanda's eyes flashed with memories. "Yes."

"And you what, read minds?"

"Yes."

Grant blinked slowly, intentionally. "Then I'm sorry you had to see that. Let it serve as a warning to not look into my mind."

Wanda bowed her head. "Just like your father."

"Is Skye safe?"

"As far as I can tell. She and Raina are still inside."

"Take us to the Temple," Grant ordered softly, panting for breath. He knew he didn't have much time left, but he would hang on for as long as he could "Skye's father knows more about it than I do. Maybe he can open it."

"Not until Daisy is awakened," Skye's father said, voice gaining small strength.

While Pietro supported Skye's father's weight, Tripp supported Grant's own weight, walking slowly and gingerly, stepping over and on corpses, and Grant ignored John and the humiliation he felt, trying to preserve what little strength he had left. Up ahead, he saw a couple of dozen S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents, Coulson, May, Morse, Hunter, Romanoff, Rogers, Sam Wilson, and then his father.

Immediately, his father's eyes latched onto him, assessing and appraising.

Silence.

Coulson turned to the dozens of S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents remaining. "Create a perimeter. Be vigilant."

"Yes, sir."

The Agents dispersed.

Grant met all their gazes as best he could. "I'm touched you all came," he greeted.

"You are dying," his father observed tonelessly, dark eyes consuming him. "You disappoint me."

John started howling in laughter. "And he ain't the only one you've been disappointing! Ain't that right, son? You've been disappointing me since before the turn of the millennium"

The rage engulfed him, and Grant snarled, "Your concern's touching, old man."

Romanoff interjected, rolling her eyes. "Don't mind The Soldier; he's an ass. But you are very wounded. How? We know about your physiology."

Grant was never going to reveal the existence of the repressor shots, especially with Coulson and May looking at him.

"Deviation is unacceptable," his father cut in. "His weakness is not our concern. Hydra is."

Romanoff smiled tightly. "Again, ignore him. I know James is happy you're alright."

Grant found it hard to keep up with his body so weak, mind clouded with pain, but he glanced at Rogers. "Still think we're alike?"

Rogers didn't even blink. "Yes."

"Absolutely," Hunter agreed unabashedly.

Grant's arms shook with effort as he raised himself to his full height by using Tripp's shoulder as leverage; Tripp clearly wasn't happy but allowed him to do it. "You'll find out how much if you don't help me get the Temple open!"

"Daisy must be awakened," Skye's father said softly, head sagging, lolling; his eyes were hazy.

"Shut up," he snapped. "She needs to make the choice herself, not be forced into it."

"That is not Life's pattern," his father intoned. "You know that."

Grant's eyes spasmed shut as images flowed through his mind for a moment, all connected in that he didn't recognize them. "Doesn't matter," he dismissed.

Wanda looked at him strangely, eyes taking on the red mist. "There's… part of you that's smothered."

"I didn't know what you're talking about," Grant denied. "And I warned you not to look in my mind."

"I already asked him about it," Rogers interrupted. "Whitehall's older than me and Buck, and he's learned a lot - like how to smother a Super-Soldier's physiology."

Wanda shook her head. "No, it's more. There are… psychic blocks in his mind, confining his potential. They're strong, but I think they're beginning to crack."

Romanoff raised a brow. "Placed by Hydra?"

"My brother," Grant cut in. "But it doesn't matter. Help me get Skye. She's in the Temple."

"Hydra must die," his father intoned, eyes so similar to his own blazing with the lust for blood. "The longer we wait, the possibility of hunting all of the Agents who escaped diminishes."

"Then go," he dismissed. "Go kill them all. I don't care. I care about Skye."

"And it's gonna get you killed! You should've high-tailed it out of here! Or at least made a play against Whitehall."

The Soldier remained, face blank. "You share the weakness of your father - pathetic."

Fire crackled in his soul, granting him strength from his weakened state, and Grant glared at his father with all the poison in his heart. He dimly noted that Wanda stared at him with petrified eyes, and everyone else shifted on their feet nervously, even Romanoff, although her face still expressed boredom.

"Fuck off," he snapped, meeting his father's blazing eyes with his own. "I know all about you and Romanoff."

"Great," Romanoff said dryly.

His father's face twitched, hatred slowly consuming the ice in his eyes. "She is James's weakness, not mine. Agent Skye is yours."

Grant rolled his eyes, angered that John was nodding in agreement. "Try harder. You're not very convincing. Your weakness is clearly still breathing."

"Lay off," Tripp muttered, barely audible. "I like living, Ward."

"Listen to him," his father cautioned. "You may be of my blood, but you are not mine. You are James's son. You are weak like him."

"My physiology's superior to yours," Grant pointed out, a twisted smile on his face. He didn't understand what his father was saying about some James, and he didn't care. "You may be the superior fighter, but I'm stronger and more resilient - and you know it. I can take anything you throw at me."

His father's eyes drifted over his weakened, bleeding body, unimpressed. "Your pallor suggests otherwise."

"It's getting hard to breathe with all this testosterone in the air," Romanoff interjected dryly, and Grant noticed the nodding heads of May and Morse. "Cut it out, both of you. There are bigger things to take care of than this father-son dick-measuring contest." Romanoff glanced at him, raising her brows. "Call it a woman's intuition, but I believe Agent Skye would agree with me."

Grant sighed and acquiesced.

His father glared at Romanoff, and Grant felt impressed when Romanoff effortlessly met his glare with a bored, exasperated expression. "Hydra must die."

"Then go, Soldier," Romanoff ordered casually, but Grant discerned that it was a forced casualness. Regardless, it was impressive. He always knew she was good, had heard the stories, but to see her fearlessly order The Soldier around and not relent to his will made him admire her more than any story S.H.I.E.L.D. had ever preached. "Bathe in their blood, rip out their bones, and gnaw on their torn flesh until your hatred is satisfied."

"Is it just me, or does that sound amazing?" John asked. "Do it to Phil! And ice-cold May!"

Wary eyes watched The Soldier, and Grant didn't fail to note that May had subtly positioned her weapon in The Soldier's direction. His father remained rooted in place, body tense, a manic energy boiling in those dark, chilling eyes - eyes that Grant knew were the same as his own, the same as Christian's - before his father suddenly shuddered and relaxed, face clearing, eyes latching onto him with curiosity.

Grant didn't understand what happened, but based on Romanoff's relaxed posture, Rogers's sheer relief, and May housing her weapon, The Soldier had committed to the decision to stay.

"You're taller than I thought you'd be," his father observed, voice different, less chilling and uncompromising. Now it possessed a balance that had previously been lacking. Those eyes identical to his own roamed his face, the pallor, and down his body, analyzing his wounds. "You fight to survive. That's good. You are my son."

Feeling slightly uncomfortable, Grant turned to Skye's father. "Speaking of fathers, open the Temple. Get Skye out of there."

Skye's father's eyes were hazy, glued to the Temple doors. "Daisy will not exit until her awakening. Only when the process is complete will the Temple open again."

"It's too late?"

"It is."

Grant finally looked to Coulson. "If Skye's changed like Raina, who now looks like a porcupine, then- "

"Perhaps the description, a little poop with knives sticking out of it, would be more apt," Coulson smoothly interrupted, eyes amused, and Grant paused, surprised by the blatant change in Coulson's demeanor.

John whistled, impressed. "Either Phil's become a much better actor, or he's lost the madness of the GH-325. That lucky motherfucker!"

The lurking darkness in Coulson's eyes was gone, the poisonous, unbalanced hatred. The calm poise he had associated with the man before Hydra revealed itself had returned.

"You could say that," he responded slowly, still surprised. "But if Skye's changed like Raina, she better not be put on the Index - or there will be serious problems."

Coulson hesitated, glancing at Wanda and Pietro. "This will all be discussed later. There are more important things to attend to right now."

Sam Wilson raised his arms in disbelief. "You mean waiting? That's all we're doing."

Hunter nodded in agreement. "But it's led to some fascinating conversation. I assume I wasn't the only one who didn't know about Ward's psychic blocks from his brother."

Grant glared at him, and Hunter only smiled brashly. "That's a family matter," he snapped. "It's none of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s business."

May's eyes darkened. "You've made it our business."

"It is not," his father murmured before Grant could respond, the words dangerous and on the verge of violence. "Desist from investigating."

Morse shrugged. "Then we need a distraction."

Hunter frowned. "Like what?"

"The fact that Phil's no longer blow-his-brains-out insane!" John suggested.

Rogers looked around at the destruction around them. "I'd suggest burying some of the bodies, but I don't think The Soldier or Bucky would approve. We wait."

Grant didn't understand why Rogers differentiated between Bucky Barnes and The Winter Soldier, and he didn't care, but he watched his father glance at Rogers with an approving nod, and Rogers stood a little taller, relieved.

"How long has Skye been in there?" Sam Wilson asked.

"At least half an hour," Morse replied.

"Jiaying said the process could take minutes or hours," Skye's father notified, not looking at any of them, eyes rooted on the Temple. "Daisy will be beautiful."

"What are your plans after this, Mr. Zabo?" Coulson asked, tone interested and non-judgmental.

Grant had forgotten what it sounded like.

"I will kill Whitehall and then help Daisy by facilitating her progression."

Hunter shrugged. "Sounds pretty standard."

"For a father, I imagine it would be," Coulson agreed.

"What is this?" Grant finally demanded, blinking, staring at Coulson. "You're in possession of all your marbles now?"

"The alien language made everything fuzzy," Wanda disclosed casually, not even looking. She was staring, fascinated, at one of the corpses near them - why, Grant didn't know nor care. "He couldn't think straight. But he can now."

Coulson glanced at Wanda and hesitated. "I feel as if I've awakened from a stupor. The decisions I made were not sensible. I'm sorry."

Grant took a heavy step forward with Tripp supporting him. "You sent me to Christian to be executed like a dog. Every attempt I made to explain myself, to give you the answers I know you wanted, was met with hatred and ridicule. You tortured me for months. You poisoned my meals. You encouraged my suicide. You killed John."

"Blow his brains out for him!" John roared, face red and snarling, eyes bulging with intensity and anticipation. "Kill the resurrecting son of a bitch!"

Grant's grip on his weapon tightened, but he didn't raise it. Coulson's pale face may have helped him restrain himself. "I always understood your distrust, but what I didn't understand was your pathetic inability to search for the truth and only accept events at face value. You reduced the complexity of who I am and the decisions I made, reduced human complexity itself, to your moralistic absolutes and binaries - a fatal weakness. And you thought you knew everything without investigating. You didn't bother to look deeper." His eyes drifted to May, flashing. "All of you hated me with good reason, but for a bunch of spies and Agents, you let your emotions control you - pathetic. S.H.I.E.L.D. once practiced rehabilitation." Grant shakily pointed at Romanoff, who still seemed bored. He had never met someone who could pull off the look of boredom so well. It almost made Grant envious. "Romanoff's the perfect example. You could have rehabilitated me, and it would have been a damn good investment, but you didn't. You let me rot in that cell- "

"Don't rewrite history," May snapped. "You deserved everything - and you deserve more still. The fact you can stand before me without shackles is- "

His father's eyes burst with storm clouds. "Adapt, Agent May. Your perception is limited. I cannot perceive how you endure in this world with such a simplistic perception. You would have never survived Hydra. You are weak."

"Stand down, May," Coulson ordered immediately. "We all have our opinions. However, I fear, lately, I have mistaken my opinions for facts."

"What are you doing, Phil?" May hissed, eyes narrow.

"I believe he's repenting," Grant observed dryly.

"Don't let him fool you, son," John advised. "We both know he's just trying to get out of that bullet to the brain. Don't fall for his act!"

Coulson sighed and stared back at him. "Mistakes were made, Ward, and I imagine you'd agree that the mistakes were on both sides."

"In your eyes, I was the monster, the evil son of a bitch who betrayed S.H.I.E.L.D., but in my eyes, you were the monsters, the self-righteous, emotional idiots who condemned me to die when all I wanted to do was help fix what I had helped break."

John scoffed. "Why are you always so damn dramatic? You were fine with breaking S.H.I.E.L.D.! You've never given a shit about them! You only got your balls in a twist when your girl got all hooked in your tender heart - and those science geeks, too!"

Coulson swallowed, but he maintained the strength in his gaze. "I can offer you nothing but an apology, Ward. Mistakes were made, and I see that now. I see clearly for the first time in… months. Maybe for the first time since Fury brought me back."

Grant didn't miss how Morse narrowed her eyes in consideration. "Does your apology include being sorry for killing John?" he asked, tense. "Skye told me what happened."

"I will never feel sorry for killing that narcissistic son of a bitch," Coulson said bluntly, and if Grant didn't have to physically restrain himself from launching himself at him, wounds be damned, he would have admired it. "He deserved it, and I think you know it."

John screamed in outrage, the sound ringing in his ears, making him waver on his feet, and he squeezed his eyes shut. "You have no idea how hard it is to spare you."

"None of you realize how true his statement is," Wanda added, staring at him sympathetically. "His strength and control are just like Barnes's."

His father nodded approvingly without offering vocal praise.

Coulson stepped forward and held out his hand. "I can't change what I did, but I can change what I will do. The plan was to find you and kill you, but that's not the plan anymore. Sergeant Barnes will receive custody of you, but if you wish to return with us, you may, and you won't be imprisoned."

Grant stared at Coulson, looking for the familiar signs of deception he always found, but there were none.

Coulson wasn't lying; the offer was genuine.

"That's just like Phil," John said in disgust. "Don't believe this bullshit, son. He's just giving you some sob story so you'll let down your guard. It's a simple enough play - you know it well enough. How many times have you run this one? At least a dozen by my count."

"The deal was that you would join your father while Skye would return with us," Coulson continued, holding his gaze with rational, calm, and balanced eyes. Grant could admit that he had missed it a little bit. "But if you want, we'll take you and Skye back to the Playground and make sure you'll be alright. You need medical attention. And who knows what Skye will need?" Their eyes drifted over to Skye's father, who said nothing, lost in his own mind. "I'm not sorry for killing Garrett, Ward, and like I said, deep down, I think you know he deserved it. What I am sorry for is my actions - S.H.I.E.L.D.'s actions - to you since your imprisonment. I should have attempted rehabilitation, but I was not thinking clearly, and that fault is no one's but mine." Grant could think of a few people who shared the blame, but he remained silent. "You would be our best asset, and I know Skye would freely endorse you."

"Add me to that list," Hunter interjected with a smirk.

Coulson glanced at Hunter, seemingly unsurprised. "If you prove trustworthy, I will join in those efforts, and so will others. Let Skye come home to her family, Ward. If you want, come back with us. I know you want to do the right thing."

"Don't manipulate me," he warned.

"Sorry," Coulson acknowledged genuinely. "But I do believe that."

"Make sure you believe that Skye may not return with you. She may wish to be away from S.H.I.E.L.D. because I offer much better company than any of you."

Tripp huffed beneath him. "You're awfully bold for someone who needs help standing up, Ward."

"Call it insurance," Grant retorted. "If I die on your watch, Skye will never forgive you."

May's finger caressed the trigger on her weapon. "We'd help her realize the poison you've filled her mind with."

Grant smiled coldly. "I used S.H.I.E.L.D.'s basic rhetorical strategy."

Morse rolled his eyes. "I wish you'd bleed out already."

"No, you don't," Wanda called out lazily.

"I do," May sneered.

Grant didn't need Wanda to know May was telling the truth.

"I don't," Hunter said.

"If you wish to live, you do not," his father intoned, adamant.

"That's good, son," John congratulated. "Your old man's on your side! You got The Soldier in your corner! You never have to watch your back again!"

Coulson hesitated before sighing. "I can see why Skye would wish to stay away, but the choice will be hers. If you and she… wish to go with Barnes, we will disagree but respect her decision. Destroying Hydra will be a consolation."

"A damn good one," Hunter added.

"The point is, Ward," Coulson continued, "since the Temple activated, that alien voice is gone from my mind, and I've had time to think - and I forgot how wonderful logic and clarity are. You could have killed all of us, but you didn't. You could have killed Agents May, Morse, Triplett, and Hunter when you met them - or at least attempted to kill them. You could have opened fire on us the moment you saw us, but you didn't. You spared us. That means something. It means a lot. You can have a second chance if you want it, Ward. I should have given you one long before now."

Tripp smiled wide. "It's good to have you back, sir."

"Thank you, Agent Triplett." Coulson's eyes were clear, and there was the genuineness that Grant had looked for months ago. "Do we have an agreement, Ward? What do you want to do? It's your choice. And I'm sorry that it's the first choice I'm offering you, but I know you know I'm not lying. I mean every word."

John glared at him with the force of stars, crushing his soul. "If you take that deal, you're a fucking pussy! You hear me, motherfucker? Tell Phil to shove that offer up his ass! And then put a bullet up it, too! Kill Fury's favorite boy-toy!"

After several moments, Grant slowly accepted the offered hand and had to seriously battle the urge to try to crush it despite his weakened state. "I'm not doing it for you," he said softly, but his intensity was never louder. "I'm not doing it so you can clear your conscience, and I'm not doing it to help S.H.I.E.L.D. or myself. I don't need your forgiveness or sympathy, and I can take care of myself. I'm doing it for Skye, only for Skye because… she loves you, and you're her family." A small smirk stretched on his face. "But as I told her father earlier, I don't have to love you back."

Coulson nodded. "Understood."

"Make sure it stays that way."

They each released the other from their handshake.

John howled in fury, screeching words of condemnation assaulting him.

"I can live with that," Coulson said, the words barely reaching him.

Rogers nodded approvingly and gently clapped Coulson on the shoulder, who froze before a huge, dazed smile crossed his face.

John abruptly changed his tune, laughing in amusement, and if Grant had the energy, he would have rolled his eyes. "I bet Phil just creamed himself, son."

Wanda stared at him anxiously, but she said nothing. Grant would deal with her later, and based on the expression on her face, she knew it.

Then the earth shook beneath them, flinging them all off-balance.

The shaking intensified, large ruptures splitting through ancient stone, throwing them all into the air before they crashed. Grant haltingly raised himself to his knees to look at the Temple, keeping his limbs and joints loose to ride out the quakes, arms shaking, fingers aching, perception disoriented.

"Skye," he gasped out as the Temple doors began to creak open.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Whitehall had quickly deduced that Grant Ward had escaped, but then when some of his guards were gunned down by S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents, he realized that Grant Ward had somehow played him. He still didn't know how, nor did he care. His fury burned for Garrett. Damn Garrett for teaching Grant Ward how to reject the Faustus Method! Damn Grant Ward's obstinance in the face of reason!

All his plans were eviscerated due to Grant Ward and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s untimely alliance. Did Grant Ward despise Hydra so severely that he would align himself with the organization that tortured and imprisoned him for over half a year, or had that been a lie? He knew of Grant Ward's espionage abilities, but Whitehall had lived decades longer, and he knew a lie from a truth. No, Grant Ward had been telling the truth about his hatred for S.H.I.E.L.D., especially based on little Daisy's reaction to his judgment that they share a common enemy.

How had S.H.I.E.L.D. found them? Had the two moles planted that Bakshi had failed to discern somehow figured out the plan? No, that was impossible. He had not shared his plans with anyone, not even Bakshi. Had little Daisy somehow done something? Had the orphan contacted S.H.I.E.L.D. before she was captured to provoke Mr. Zabo into revealing his knowledge of the Diviner and Temple? What about the allies he had heard briefly described in the comms before the men were killed near the Temple, having chosen to fight against the assault rather than tactically retreat?

Were Steve Rogers and The Soldier here? Did that mean The Avengers were, as well? If The Soldier was here, what about the experiments he had liberated from Sokovia?

It mattered little. Von Strucker had implemented a fail-safe in case his experiments had rebelled or escaped. They would not be a threat much longer.

Hydra would survive. From his estimations, a little over one-third of the original forces remained, having fled with him. Most importantly, the orphan had been wrong. She had prophesied his death, but he still endured as he always would - he would never die.

However, he needed more.

Hydra would survive the assault forwarded by S.H.I.E.L.D. and Grant Ward due to many Agents fleeing into the vast system of tunnels with him, but he would still be responsible for the decimation of two-thirds of Hydra's forces. Whitehall paused, realizing that due to this massive failure, Malick held the upper hand. He despised the prospect of owing Malick for forgiveness. The only way to preserve his position as Head was to attain what he had promised.

Suddenly, the ground shook, and Whitehall stumbled grabbing Agent Larson's arm to steady himself.

His eyes lit up. "Little Daisy," he murmured, mind working furiously. The confusion of little Daisy's gift would facilitate the destruction of S.H.I.E.L.D. once and for all. They had retreated briefly to reorient their position, and now, S.H.I.E.L.D. was secure in their victory, relaxed, unprepared for the returning tide.

Whitehall turned around and raised his voice, knowing everyone surviving in other tunnel systems would hear him through the comms. "They think they are safe, that we have retreated, but we will return and strike back. Slaughter S.H.I.E.L.D. and all their allies, but capture little Daisy and Grant Ward. Use lethal force to subdue, but they must be alive."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Pain!

Skye could barely think with the pain in her body, the agony scorching her mind. Her mind shook under the pressure, body splintering from the intensity of the shaking. Terror erupted into her mind, and the vibrations under her skin danced with radical chaos and disharmony. Tears descended down her cheeks, for it hurt so much, unlike any physical pain she had ever experienced. Not even being shot by Quinn had produced such agony.

Her organs quivered, her tendons withered, her muscles ruptured, and her bones cracked - along with her sanity! Nothing made sense! Only the pain! But she didn't want the pain! It had to stop! It needed to! Why had she listened to Raina? This gift was tearing her apart from the inside, and her blood felt like poison in her veins, scorching her innards with decay and weakness, the vibrations ripping through her worse than any vertigo or nausea.

Skye tried to open her eyes, but she saw nothing. Darkness was everywhere, no source of light, no rays or specks visible! When the alien matter had enveloped her, Raina's golden eyes had calmed her, but now there was nothing to calm her! Raina had lied! She was being fundamentally changed! The pain in her body must be an omen for the spikes soon to pierce her flesh and turn her into something ugly and horrific!

Then a sliver of light registered! A crack appeared in the alien matter around her, slowly breaking away. She had the sickening feeling that she was hatching from an egg, a cocoon of monster-making substance.

But she was free!

Skye could see around her, and Raina was nowhere to be seen, or maybe she had been crushed by the debris of the Temple. There was nothing left, only desecration. Smoke and shadows filtered through the air, creating a gray haze of death, and upon the realization that she had probably killed so many people - maybe even Grant! - the shaking in her body and the shaking outside of her intensified to an agonizing degree. Her vision wavered, and she collapsed to her knees, fingers digging into the dusty rocks around her. Her hands were unmarred by spikes or thorns, and while she literally didn't breathe easier, she felt like she could.

"Skye!"

Her head shot up at the familiar voice, and then she was literally able to breathe easier - Grant!

It took several heavy moments for her to remember how to speak. "Grant! I'm here! I'm here!"

Within moments, a hunched, laboring figure entered her line of sight, and she intimately knew the figure. Grant looked terrible, face deathly pale, and blood was soaked into his clothes, but he stared at her with lucid eyes and a relieved smile.

He took several unsteady steps forward, and everything seemed okay. He was alive - they both were - and that's what mattered. They had survived Whitehall's unholy 'inquiries,' and they would continue to survive.

Then she heard the deafening thunder of countless, screeching bullets.

Grant whirled around with uncoordinated movement and he arched back in surprise, blood spraying into the air from the hole through his chest and out his back. Skye stared, horrified, unable to move as another shrieking shot rang out, connecting again, and Grant collapsed, motionless, blood pooling underneath him.

Explosions burst behind her eyes, and she screamed in helpless fury, and the quaking intensified. Ancient stone trembled under her feet and the ground bucked and shifted, creating spikes, ledges, fissures, and crevices where there was once a smooth surface.

"Grant!" she screamed. "Get up!"

Grant didn't move, and she ran toward him, noticing the ruptured terrain somehow smoothed itself into a clear pathway so she could reach him. The shaking didn't stop, only getting stronger, and she glimpsed the utter destruction outside of what once was the Temple, but she didn't care. All she cared about was Grant.

She dove towards him, sliding on her knees across the smooth stone, hands desperately dancing over his unmoving chest and up his throat to feel for a pulse. She couldn't feel one.

"Don't you dare," she said, the tears streaming down her cheeks. The hysteria in her voice clouded the air, and she tried to focus her energy on helping Grant. But there was so much blood, and he had more wounds than the two bullets from seconds ago. There was a deadly wound on his abdomen, and she swallowed thickly, realization staring up at her in the form of Grant's dirty, bloodless face.

Skye's hands shook, and her fingers curled into his leather jacket, uncaring of the blood seeping into her fingers. "You're a survivor!" she hissed out, breathing wavering. Her eyes desperately roamed Grant's face for a sign of life, for a sign that the Super-Soldier repressor shots had worn off, but there was none. Her head bowed, sobs tearing past her throat, and her hair blocked her gaze from anything but Grant. "You can't die. You can't. I need you, Grant. I need you here!"

There was no response, not even a twitch or spasm to signal life.

Grant was dead.

Her heart withered, grief consuming her senses and reason, drowning her. Everything had been okay! She had finally made the decision to listen to Grant, to hear his side of the story, and that had led to them reconnecting in a way that was so much stronger than their bond was before Hydra revealed itself. They were learning the secrets of who they really were together.

But none of that mattered because Grant was dead!

The terrible realization and grief fused together into something unholy, and all she wanted was for the pain in her heart to be gone. Her eyes were fixated on Grant's lifeless face, and she knew she would never forget it - but she wanted to!

The energy under her skin erupted out of her, and she didn't look away from Grant, uncaring of what her gift was doing, what decimation it caused.

"You'll heal, right?" Skye asked, voice wavering, catching, breaking. "Please, Grant, please. You have to wake up."

Grant didn't respond and she bowed her face into his neck; the skin was cold.

It matched the frigid ice overtaking her heart.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Wanda was the only one unaffected by whatever it was that Skye had unleashed. Floating several feet in the air, she threw her hand outward and a wave of mist exploded forward, surging into the approaching Hydra Agents. Based on their thoughts, there were several thousand returning in a tidal wave when she, Pietro, Barnes, and their allies had mistakenly relaxed, secure in their victory.

It would be the death of them all. Not even Barnes could take out so many all at once. When he destroyed Hydra bases, he had been the knife in the dark, unseen and invisible, ruthless and precise. Now, in a semi-open, desecrated battlefield, there were no clear advantages he could wield against an enemy that knew better than to engage him in hand-to-hand combat.

They would cowardly shoot at him from a distance and hope they kill him.

She knew everything they were thinking, and then she saw the man she knew to be Daniel Whitehall. He stared at her from a distance, but the cold gleam in his eyes and the apex of his thoughts terrified her.

He held up a device in his hand, and Wanda froze at the knowledge in his mind - it was a beacon to her! There was an implant in her and Pietro's bodies, between their vertebrae, and when the button on Whitehall's device was pressed, an electrical shock would rip through their bodies, knocking them unconscious.

It was Von Strucker's failsafe!

Wanda didn't try to consider how she and Pietro had not known about the failsafe, why it hadn't been used already, but she didn't have time. She tried to mentally warn Pietro, but Whitehall pressed the button. The electricity tore through her, and she collapsed, powers inaccessible. She tried to fight, to remember what Barnes had taught her, but the pain was so intense and overwhelming that screams erupted out of her throat as she writhed on the painful stone, smashing into sharp spikes and burly rocks.

Through hazed eyes, she saw one of the Agents near Whitehall look past her and fire his weapon.

Wanda heard the shriek of grief, and she felt terror. Their allies were being picked off! Who had died? Who had Hydra murdered? She arched over, and she paled in realization, the shaking of the earth reverberating through her painfully, adding more pain from the electrical shocks. Just inside the opening of what had once been the Temple, a woman who could only be Skye desperately kneeled before Grant's blood-soaked, unmoving body.

Skye's eyes were impossibly wide, the onset of rabid, manic grief surging out of her, and suddenly, Wanda gasped in a new pain. It felt like her body was being compressed by vibrations, an unbearable pressure that threatened to grind her bones to dust and crush her heart. Stone exploded everywhere, dust filling the air, and the power only grew stronger, fueled by Skye's grief.

Wanda was very impressed by the show of power. She was certain, at that moment, that The Avengers themselves - including her parents' murderer! - couldn't handle Skye. Well, maybe Thor could. The destruction leveled the surrounding walls of stone, and they descended slowly, crushing everything and everyone in its path. Many Hydra Agents died, but many survived.

She saw through pained eyes that Steve, Sam, Director Coulson, Agents Morse, Hunter, and May were pinned in a corner from a massive stone wall that had fallen due to Skye's destruction. The fear that they were all going to die assaulted her, but inside that fear, she realized that due to the further destruction, Barnes might be able to kill Hydra, for there were now more sources of shadow than light.

Suddenly, the electrical shocks vanished, and Wanda gasped as she sat up.

Whitehall had turned, enraged, finger releasing the button to grab his gun and ruthlessly kill the man who had killed Grant. Wanda saw her chance and focused all of her energy onto Grant, connecting their minds. If he regained his true form, maybe he could help stop Whitehall, and he could certainly calm Skye down.

He was nearly dead, but there was a flicker of him remaining. She knew the only way to save him was for him to regain his true physiology, his true form. His flames would burn away the effects of the repressor shots - they had to!

But only Grant could regain it; she couldn't do it for him.

With the last of her mental strength, Wanda hissed between her teeth in effort as she sent Grant into the dark, deadly, deceitful realm of his subconscious.

Then the shocks returned until she fell into her own darkness.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The light ahead grew stronger and brighter the closer he walked, illuminating the realm of darkness in which he was stuck. Drawn by an alluring, potent force beyond his understanding, Grant followed the light and time had no meaning, for suddenly, he was closer.

He could see what the source of the light was.

It was an inferno of pure flames that reached the heavens of this realm of darkness, a spiraling beauty greater than anything he could conceive. It was fire in its purest form, warm and deadly, a blend of all things. It was a radiant blaze that soothed his soul and brought him peace. The fire burned eternally, beckoning him closer, begging him, but around the fire, a circular chain of mountains stood, blocking the purest part of the flames, confining the flames, caging them into a tight box.

It was infuriating.

He needed to see and feel all of the fire!

"Don't do it. It will bring you nothing but pain."

Grant turned his gaze and froze. "Tommy," he breathed out. His twin brother was as he remembered, young, frail, but his eyes burned with intelligence and humor. But Tommy was soaking wet, water streaming down his face eternally, dripping to the shadows on which they stood. He had just come from the well.

"You're not thinking straight, Grant."

He stepped closer, holding out a disbelieving hand. "You're not real."

Tommy rolled his eyes, so similar to his vague memories. "Of course not. I've been dead for nearly twenty years. I'm your greatest regret, not John. It's me you should be seeing all the time, not him. Create a ghost of me, Grant, and I'll displace John - as it should be. I loved you more than he ever did."

Grant wavered due to the weight of those words. "No… you're my twin. You're different. I loved you more than anyone."

Tommy grinned. "Do you know why? We each had a pair of balls, we each had a heart, and we each had a brain. But you know what we each didn't have? A soul. Because we shared the same soul, Grant, and since you let me die, our soul's been broken, missing, incomplete." Tommy suddenly coughed and water spurted out of his dripping mouth, and Grant was too stunned to speak. "And I won't let you regain what you lost without me being there to see it. You don't deserve to get your flames back."

"I'm sorry," Grant murmured, voice wavering. "I fucked up. It was my fault. I should have saved you. If I wasn't weak, I would have."

The memory of his twin brother nodded, water slinging off his face, frail, prepubescent body glaring up at him with all the fire of the inferno behind him. "And it took until John for you to stop being weak. That's what I don't get, Grant. That's what pisses me off! You changed for that motherfucker, but you wouldn't change for me, your twin brother. You changed for John almost immediately, but for every day of our lives - twelve years' worth - you never grew a pair and stood up to Christian." Thomas stomped toward him unevenly, the asymmetrical length of his legs a harsh reminder of their childhood. "You threw me down that well."

The realm around them shuddered due to the force of his emotions, and Grant squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm sorry," he repeated, voice catching. "Christian's voice… it was so loud and painful. I had to do it. I wasn't strong enough to resist."

Tommy's scornful laughter withered his heart. "You've always been weak, Grant. You were so much stronger than Christian, and you could have ripped him in half any time you wanted to if only you had the balls to do it. He would have never seen it coming until it was too late, and his tongue was lying, severed, on the ground, leaving him powerless as he always made you and as you made me."

"That's what I should have done."

"Yes. But instead, you let me die."

"Christian's to blame," he admitted softly, "but I'm guilty."

"At least now you're strong," Tommy observed, walking around him with slow, uneven, methodical steps, confining him, pressuring him. "Why go back to the time when you were weaker than you've ever been? The Grant you used to be is nothing more than a horrible, pathetic, agonizing memory. Keep him there. You don't need these flames."

Grant stretched his hands, staring at the visible veins. "The repressor shots weakened me, and I was shot - badly. My flames will give me the edge I need to keep Skye safe and kill Whitehall."

"Then why aren't you already killing Hydra and protecting your girl? Why are you here?"

The realization was frigid cold. "I'm dying, aren't I?"

Tommy smiled. "At least you have company this time as you die. When in S.H.I.E.L.D. after your suicide attempts, you were alone and you didn't conjure John until after you survived. But I'm here now for every second as Death seizes you. I've always been better to you than John."

He looked around at the expanse of the realm around them, mesmerized by the eternal flames scorching the heavens above them, creating an indestructible pillar. "So, what is this? My consciousness?"

"Subconsciousness," Tommy lazily corrected. "And you already know how you got here."

"Wanda."

"A simple enough inference. She's very resourceful. I can see why dear, old Dad's so fond of her."

Grant stared at his twin brother, fighting the emotions clawing at him. "I wish you were still here for real."

Tommy tilted his head, identical eyes freezing him in place. "What would change?"

"Everything."

"I'm not sure much would. You would have still gone to military school for being such a pain in the ass to Mother and the Hydra Heads, and then Christian would have probably killed me then while you were away. Maybe he would have made Rose do it. Jasper would have done it with zeal. I was always going to die."

Grant hesitated. "Considering you're mortal, yes. But I still wish you were here."

"I'm not as susceptible to flattery as your Skye. I'm not letting you get your flames back."

He eyed the frailty of his twin. "You'd stop me? You're not real, and if you were, you couldn't touch me."

"A reflection of childhood, isn't it?" Tommy retorted casually. "You'd always beat me up, and I couldn't lift a finger to stop you."

Grant turned away. "I'm not listening to this."

"Why not?"

"I think I've been keeping too much company with ghosts."

Tommy grinned, eyes alight with pride. "But who's the better company, me or John?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. "John's been the lone constant for half my life. He was the constant after you. You were the first constant I had, John was the second, and… Skye's the third - and she will be the final constant, the enduring one."

Tommy shrugged. "It doesn't matter. You're dying. You don't have much enduring left. I hope you told this Skye everything you needed to. But knowing you, I doubt it."

Grant whirled around. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry that I was weak. But I'm not that scared kid anymore. I can protect those I love now. And if I get my flames back, nothing that happened in the past will happen again. I won't allow it." He pointed at the inferno behind Tommy. "That is rightfully mine. It's the inheritance Christian stole from me."

"Then claim it, Grant," Tommy said disingenuously, a twisted smile on his wet, dripping face. "Claim it all. Regain what you lost when you were a child. Remember everything that Christian smothered. Remember everything that you're glad you don't have memories of. Remember the torture, remember the training, remember the experiments, remember the agony."

"Glad I have your support," he said flatly.

Tommy suddenly laughed, but it was dark, bitter, and unsettling. It was nothing like the Tommy he had known. "You want that pain again, Grant? You were never a masochist. Why? Tell me why. None of this bullshit. We knew nothing but pain, and you shouldn't want it back, but you do. Why do you want it? Why do you want to remember that?"

Grant swallowed. "Even though there will be more pain than I know, I'd like to remember more of you than just vague impressions and instincts, more than the images of you drowning in the well."

"That's a good answer," Tommy praised. "So good it makes me think you've used it before. Are you trying to play me?"

"You think nothing but what I think," he retorted. "I know pain, Tommy. The only one I can think of who knows pain better than me is our father. Pain's the worst, but it's useful. I'd be long dead if not for pain, if not for it fueling me and forcing me to get better and stronger, to make sure that the painful events that haunt me will never happen again! How can I have a complete understanding of who I am without those memories? Whether I know it or not, those experiences, that pain, shaped me. You shaped me, and I want to remember more of you, even if it includes the pain. How can I move on from the past unless I know my past? Unless I know the events that shaped me? If I don't know, I'll never be free, nor at peace. Ignorance is not bliss. I need those flames. I need to remember."

"What about your girl?" his twin wondered, voice contemplative. "Will she be horrified to see the true you, the monster of your childhood? A child who vexed Mother and the Hydra Heads so thoroughly that they wiped away the truth of who you are for fear of your monstrosity?"

"Skye's already seen me at my worst."

"No, she hasn't. What happens when you remember the kills, tests, and experiments Zenfield and Mother subjected you to? Will you be able to look your girl in the eye knowing what you did as a pathetic child, knowing you are now infinitely more capable as a man? She forgave your monstrosity once, but will she do it again?"

Grant hesitated. "What did I do as a child?"

Tommy grinned in triumph. "See? Now you fear that knowledge as you should! Does she love you enough to forgive once more?"

Cycling through the potential evils he could have inflicted as a child, Grant shrugged. "I can't speak for her. I can guess based on experience and her personality, her understanding, empathy, and sympathy, but it's only a guess. I don't know. There's no knowledge by which to answer that question. But I can answer it with faith - yes, Skye will forgive me. She'll understand." His voice lowered. "She has to."

"I once had such faith in you to save me, but you didn't fulfill that faith," Tommy lamented. "Make sure this Skye's more faithful than you were to me - your twin."

Grant raised his arms in surrender. "You're right. You're only saying something I already know. That pathetic kid I was is a bad memory that I shouldn't want. He didn't have the balls and strength to rebel against Christian, but I've learned from my mistakes. Because you know what? Skye's made me see that there's more to existence than just surviving. There's living, and I want to live. I want to live with Skye. I shouldn't if I want to survive, but survival elicits no value beyond survival in its simplest form. Love is unnecessary and so is family and friendships; they hold no survival power, rather the opposite. But they give value to survival, to make living possible. These memories, the pain, the flames, despite all the agony, will bring value, Tommy. Maybe you don't believe me, maybe you think I'm full of shit, but there's no one who can dictate my life anymore, least of all the memory of you."

His twin stepped forward and his small, frail, wet, delicate hand grabbed hold of his much larger one, and he craned his head up to look at him; their identical eyes locked. "Then may the inferno of who you are burn away Christian's icy fingers and words."

"That's a paradox considering I just said I want to remember," he said dryly, a small smirk crossing his face. "Even Christian, I want to remember him. I need the full, working picture. It's the only way I'll get peace, the only way I'll… be able to live with Skye as I want to."

"You love her."

"I tried not to," Grant admitted honestly. "I tried. But she was relentless, and I'm glad she was. I do love her, and the only way I can live with her is if… is if I'm focused on her in the present, focused on whatever future we may have. I can't do that if I'm concerned about remembering my past."

The smile on Tommy's face became genuine, the same smile that he dimly remembered from his childhood. He wanted to remember every smile Tommy had ever shared with him. "Live, Grant. Live as you were meant to."

Grant memorized Tommy for several seconds before he took off. He sprinted towards the circular chain of mountains, legs pumping and arms swinging, and the closer he came, the heat washing over him, the stronger he became, running faster than he thought possible. The flames imbued him with intimate, familiar power, and he wanted it all back!

He raced up the mountain, his strides getting impossibly longer, and he almost mimicked flight. There was no sensation of time, for he arrived at the top of the peaks, and he saw the glory of his flames.

Resembling a primordial force, the inferno roared in welcome, the sweltering heat warming his soul, and he began to remember.

With foreign but familiar images surging through his mind, Grant leaped off the apex of the mountain into the glorious flames. When the tips of the flames touched him, light burst behind his eyes, and he watched the inferno erupt out of the confines of the mountain, incinerating everything, released from the cage designed by Christian. The flames surged in all directions, taking over the realm of his subconscious, and they kept going and going.

Then Grant was consumed by fire.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Exhaustion trickled through her grief, and Skye shuddered. The quakes ripping through her and around her had stopped, and the echo of gunshots was all she could hear, far away, but she didn't care. She felt hollow and incapable of movement. Her limbs were rooted in place, too heavy, and maybe it was because Grant's cold head laid in her lap, but it didn't matter.

Nothing mattered now that Grant was dead.

Her tears stained his face, and for some reason, she thought that her tears would work as a sacrifice to Fate or Destiny or whatever, an appeasement to bring Grant back, a worthy trade. She had submitted promises and bargains, swearing to be a better person, but nothing came to fruition. No matter how hard she sobbed, how desperately she wept, Grant still died.

Was this what her gift had wrought?

Skye scrunched her face and looked out into the blurry, hazy distance, wondering when she would join Grant in death because Raina had lied! That bitch! And she was nowhere to be seen. She had promised that Grant would live and that Skye would be okay, and Skye had stupidly trusted her! If she lived through this, she wound hunt Raina down and-

The sudden flare of heat she felt cut into her vengeful thoughts.

Skye's eyes snapped back to Grant's face, hope erupting in her heart, and it wasn't just the heat wafting off Grant's body that warmed her. She stared with wide eyes as Grant's face slowly lost its pallor, regaining its color and health. His chest started moving - he was breathing! - and the numerous wounds on his body slowly mended themselves, and she watched with bated breath as several bullets were pushed out by invisible fingers, falling to the stone with a soft clang.

"Grant?" she whispered.

There was no response, but the ground underneath Grant, all stained with blood, began to smoke and glow an ominous red, and her lap felt unbearably warm. The pressure of the heat suddenly erupted, blanketing over her, and she gasped at the burning sensation spreading over her flesh and through her clothes. She shoved Grant's head off her lap and scrambled back with hisses of pain, doing her best to avoid further burns. The air scorched her lungs, and her eyes watered from an entirely different reason than grief, but she didn't dare leave, not when Grant was going to wake up!

The smoking of the stone drifted into the air, fusing with the perennial dust, and the smell assaulted her, something terrible and foreboding, but yet hopeful, for it signaled that Grant was going to wake up!

The gunshots outside the Temple suddenly ceased, and Skye could feel the terrified realization of whom she suspected to be Hydra and Whitehall.

A startled gasp escaped Grant, and Skye could finally breathe when she saw his eyes snap open, but before she could say anything or run to him, he started to cough and plumes of fire erupted out of his mouth. Too amazed, she had lost the ability to speak, and she stared, frozen, as Grant stumbled to his feet, fire washing over him, consuming all clothes and available flesh.

He was Fire itself, like looking at a miniature sun, and her eyes were seared by the potency of who he truly was.

The light illuminated everything, and she saw the destruction and corpses everywhere in the carnage outside of the decimated Temple. Hydra Agents slithered through the haze, but then she saw a blur - was that a man? - crash into them, effortlessly killing them with methodical, precise, and swift movements. She saw the gleam of a metal arm, alerting her who the man was - Grant's father! - as the gunshots began again, an unbalanced exchange between The Winter Soldier and the many Hydra Agents that somehow impossibly benefited The Winter Soldier.

But Grant's father wasn't her concern.

Skye watched Grant look down at his flaming hands, clearly fascinated just as she herself felt, for the flames danced in harmony, drifting in spirals around his body like rushing water.

It was beautiful.

"Grant!" she called out in utter relief.

He turned to her without saying anything. She had the terrible thought that he didn't recognize her, that his memory had been burned away along with the Super-Soldier repressor shots, but then he leaped toward her.

She was too stunned to react to his blurring form until she was held in his arms in a fierce hug. Alarm spread through her, but she wasn't burning alive from the flames. She was safe, and the fires didn't harm her.

"Grant," she moaned into his chest, the emotions bubbling inside her. She reached up and gripped his face to reassure herself he was real and was mesmerized when the flames drifted away at her touch, revealing his familiar face and eyes. "I thought…"

"I'm okay," he assured, voice calm and soothing, similar to the flames pulsing in his eyes like heartbeats. "I'm better than okay."

Skye sniffed. "Me too."

Suddenly, a pulse registered inside her, and instinctively, she knew someone stood in the Temple with them - a Hydra Agent! She peaked past Grant's broad body, confirming her fear, and tried to warn Grant, but the Agent raised his gun, unleashing a volley of bullets. Horror consumed her at history repeating itself, but to her amazement, the bullets never reached them. A wave of fire surged out from Grant's back, swallowing the bullets and Hydra Agent, melting the bullets and body until they were incinerated all in the blink of an eye. Only a scorched, blackened, charred corpse remained.

The smell was terrible, but that's when she understood - the fire was his protection, literally forming a layering shield around his body capable of reacting to threats. And because he didn't perceive her to be a threat, the flames didn't harm her.

"No more drinks for you," she observed, the exhaustion of the past week enveloping her.

Grant shook his head, an unknown warmth in his face that she wasn't sure was a result of his flames return or not. "No more drinks for them. They'll be too dead to get that luxury. And we have help, too. Coulson and S.H.I.E.L.D. are here."

"Good," Skye said and squeezed him tightly, still needing to reassure herself that he was not an illusion conjured by her overwhelming grief and need to have him alive.

XxXxXxXxXxX

When the shaking finally stopped, Coulson's arms quivered from the exertion of holding onto Captain America's - Captain America! - shield for stability. The chaos around them disrupted his perception, for he had trouble discerning where the Temple originally was and from where they had entered. Rubble, carnage, and corpses were all he could see through the small vantage - but he could hear the deadly, unbalanced exchange of bullets.

He had no idea if any of the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents beside Agents May, Morse, and Triplet, who had all remained by his side, had survived the Temple's attack - along with Hydra's sudden resurgence.

"Are you alright?" Captain America asked, peering down at him with critical eyes. It was almost enough to make Coulson forget about the massive wall of stone that crushed Captain America's foot when the Temple fell. The wall had sloped down and trapped them all into a tight corner, pushed together with only a small vantage of the outside visible.

They could not escape.

Coulson swallowed. "I'm fine. Can you see- "

"The Temple's been destroyed. I lost sight of everyone else when the shaking started and the Temple crumbled and Hydra returned." Captain America peered into the distance. "I think I saw Wanda and Pietro, but I didn't see any of the other S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents. I'm sorry, Coulson."

"What about Agent Skye's father?" Sam Wilson asked.

Coulson frowned. "Pietro was with him when the shaking started."

Agent Morse raised her brows in consideration. "Do you think he was killed?"

"I don't think so," Agent Hunter responded. "From the brief time I saw him, he reminded me too much of Ward - he's a fighter who survives. Skye clearly went for a guy like her old man."

May's jaw clenched. "Ward doesn't love her; he's obsessed- "

"And I think you're obsessed with hating Ward," Agent Hunter interrupted unabashedly. "Maybe that's why you two slept together - you're both obsessive."

"I really wish you were Hydra so I could shoot you," May muttered, glaring.

"And you're really good at making threats like Ward, too! The list just keeps growing!"

"I'm nothing like Ward."

Agent Hunter nodded in agreement. "Yeah, he actually has a sense of humor and you don't."

"Ward is a coward who's manipulating Skye."

"You're proving my point!"

Coulson sighed, realizing he would need to talk to May now that he could think rationally, achieve a balanced state of reason and control. He didn't realize how much the alien voice had affected him until it was gone, culminating in clarity and realization. He had committed gross mistakes. But he would fix his actions, beginning with Ward - hopefully.

"The point is," Morse interjected, "we don't know how many Agents are left to stand against Hydra."

Agent Triplett cursed. "Shit. Is Ward still alive?"

"Is Skye still alive?" May emphasized in correction.

"More than likely, they both are," Coulson concluded. "Ward's a survivor, and he'll be where Skye is. I trust he would rather die than see her hurt. That I do believe."

"Good man," Captain America praised, and Coulson felt a goofy smile spread over his face.

Agent Hunter grunted, aggravated. "Whoever's hand is gripping my ass, take it off!"

"Sorry," Agent Morse said unapologetically.

Coulson sighed as Agent Hunter visibly perked up in the cramped space. "Oh, never mind, Bob- woah, woah! Put it back! I didn't know it was you."

"Clearly."

"Does this mean you're gonna pay up that hundred bucks you owe me?"

"I was hoping this would distract you."

"It'd probably work even better if you traveled a little further down under."

Sam Wilson groaned. "I can't believe I'm going to die while you get your balls fondled, man."

Agent Hunter winked. "Advantages of being a proper Agent under Coulson. S.H.I.E.L.D. offers the best compensation package of any intelligence agency. It's very stimulating."

When Captain America glanced at him, eyebrows raised, Coulson felt mortified. "No, no," he said quickly. "Agent Hunter exaggerates, sir."

Agent Triplett nodded sadly. "If only he weren't."

"We don't have time for this," May snapped, rolling her eyes. "Children. We're stuck, but we must think of something."

"We must take care of Hydra," Coulson said, staring at Captain America's crushed foot trapped underneath a massive wall of stone that had trapped them all. "Captain, can you lift- "

"It's beyond me," Captain America interrupted. "When Bucky comes back, he and I can lift it, or shove it away, but I can't do it alone."

Sam Wilson motioned toward the vantage. "If one of us can throw an explosive out that vantage and it explodes on the other side of the wall, would it free us?"

"No," Morse answered immediately. "I already thought of that. Most likely, the top portion of this stone wall would fall and crush us all. The bottom of the wall supports the top. We need the bottom to survive - and don't even say what I know you're thinking, Lance."

Agent Hunter grinned. "I have to think happy thoughts during what may be my last moments in this world."

"Keep them to yourself."

"Please do," Coulson ordered. "Captain, you're closest to the vantage. Do you see a woman?"

"Agent Skye?"

"Yes."

Captain America frowned and as the tallest of them all, craned his neck to observe. "I see dead bodies, all of which are Hydra."

"The shaking stopped," Coulson said slowly, mind racing. "The Temple's been destroyed. But where's Skye? Are you sure you can't see her? What about Ward?"

"I can't see much," Captain America retorted, and Coulson felt the flush of shame spread through him. He didn't want to disappoint or insult Captain America. "The ruins of the Temple are too tall from this vantage to see what or who is behind them or in them."

Agent Triplett nodded toward Captain America's crushed foot. "You know, sir, we may have to amputate that."

Captain America looked to his foot and immediately waved him off. "Bucky fell out of a train thousands of feet above ground and survived. I'll live."

"But he lost his arm," Agent Hunter pointed out.

"Don't say that in front of him."

"Sorry," Agent Hunter said unapologetically, and Coulson closed his eyes for patience. "You could really become brothers with him - you may lose the foot. Limbless Super-Soldiers. I wonder if that's a pattern that will extend to Ward."

"If he's still alive," May muttered, eyes flashing.

"Bucky's arm was severed somehow during the fall," Captain America explained patiently. Coulson admired him more than any man alive. "My foot hasn't been severed. It won't be. I will heal once he comes back and helps me lift this wall away."

"That could be a while," Sam Wilson muttered. "The Soldier's in firm control now."

Captain America sighed, the amusement and sorrow in his face coalescing into something Coulson had never seen before. "He's having the time of his life."

"That's an understatement."

Agent Hunter raised his eyebrows. "So, what's the over/under on Barnes's kill count? Let's start at a thousand corpses, and I'm pretty sure that's a cautious estimate instead of realistic."

"Are you serious?" Agent Triplett asked, and Captain America looked queasy. "This is how you want to spend your possible final moments?"

"I got to see the greatest killer to ever walk the Earth in action," Agent Hunter defended, insulted. "Of course I'm gonna think about him."

"While getting your balls fondled?" Sam Wilson asked in disbelief.

Agent Morse smirked in amusement while Agent Hunter sputtered. "What? No!"

"Then what are you talking about?"

"I just meant I'm gonna think about the greatest killer to ever live. He was more efficient than anyone I've ever seen, a killing machine that moved like a deer or something, and I want to be efficient like that. He gave me a lot to think about."

Captain America's eyes closed, pained. "You and me both."

"What about Romanoff?" May asked, and Coulson almost smiled at the curiosity in her voice. "What's her over/under?"

"At most, a third of Barnes's," Sam Wilson said flatly. "Realistically, probably a fifth. I think she knows better than to try to steal his kills."

Agent Hunter whistled. "Damn. I guess she does love him."

"I watched them," Agent Morse notified. "Sergeant Barnes pulled Romanoff to safety without a thought when the shaking started and the Temple started to crumble - it was instinct. It says a lot."

"So, on the outside who's actually able to fight against the resurgent Hydra forces, there's only Barnes, his teenage proxies, Romanoff, and then maybe Ward?" Agent Hunter asked, somehow meeting all their gazes in the cramped space. "So, the odds are about even, then. Barnes alone is a nightmare, but add in Ward, who, while not as pissed off as Barnes but has a much better sense of humor, is very dangerous."

Coulson sighed at the sound of admiration in Agent Hunter's voice. Apparently but unsurprisingly, Ward had charmed him.

Agent Triplett nodded. "Those are good odds, actually, especially if Ward heals up from whatever Whitehall did to him."

"Any ideas of what Whitehall did?" May demanded, and Coulson understood where her thinking lied. The ability to neutralize the physiology of a Super-Soldier was unprecedented and incredibly valuable. It was actually priceless in terms of its political and martial power.

"I'd wager poison," Agent Hunter immediately said. "The only thing I can't figure out is the dosage."

"We have more important things to discuss," Coulson reminded.

"But we can only wait," Sam Wilson said. "We've been doing a lot of it, but it's all we can do. And I'd rather be safe behind this stone wall than get in The Soldier's way."

"Sam," Captain America said, looking stricken. "He wouldn't hurt you." At Sam Wilson's unchanged expression, Captain America sighed. "Okay, he wouldn't kill you."

"I'm not convinced."

"I wouldn't let him kill you."

"That's still not reassuring."

"Natasha wouldn't let him kill you."

Sam Wilson considered it. "Maybe."

"Are we supposed to just stay stuck here until Hydra or Barnes either kills us or frees us?" Agent Triplett demanded in interruption.

"What else can we do?" Agent Hunter asked, surprisingly unaffected. "Barnes hates Hydra too much to die on us. And those two teenage proxies hate Hydra, too. They'll take care of it. But we're stuck. Unless one of us has super-strength, then we can't do anything else but wait for Barnes to finish his murder spree."

Coulson was about to suggest creating a plan to defend themselves in case Hydra found them, but a brilliant light visible through the vantage stalled his voice. Flames illuminated the destruction of the Temple, and smoke clashed against the haze of shadows and dust. The heat rose steadily, and echoes of guttural, agonizing shrieks of death reverberated through the air, reaching them all in their cramped space.

The smell of burning flesh filled their noses.

"Son of a bitch," Agent Hunter groaned out in dismay. "Now they're adding flamethrowers into the mix? There's hardly enough oxygen down here as it is! We'll suffocate!"

Captain America exchanged glances with Sam Wilson. "That's actually Grant, I believe."

Coulson blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"What?" May hissed out dangerously.

"Grant is pyrokinetic," Captain America said slowly, frowning. "He was created by Hydra from birth to be superior to The Soldier."

Silence - filled only by the blood-curdling, dying screams of defiance from Hydra Agents.

Agent Hunter whistled. "Well, I'm glad I've played nice with him. He's got no reason to hurt - burn - me, unlike some of you."

"Your subtlety leaves much to be desired, Agent Hunter," Coulson said dryly.

"At least it's not a secret," Agent Hunter retorted boldly. "We've had enough secrets. It's better to have most things out in the open."

"Like the fact that Ward is pyrokinetic?" May demanded dangerously. "Why didn't you tell us, Captain Rogers?"

"Bucky didn't want you to know," Captain America said simply, unashamed.

"That's not good enough."

Agent Triplett frowned. "Um, I think it is."

"It is," Captain America confirmed.

"The Soldier was adamant," Sam Wilson explained. "He said if we told any of you about Grant being pyrokinetic that we wouldn't have to worry about seeing Grant on fire, for The Soldier would light us on fire himself."

Agent Morse seemed impressed. "Adamant, indeed."

Agent Hunter chuckled. "If only he weren't so terrifying. The stories he could tell."

"And he'll be telling the story of how he saved our trapped asses - the biggest fish in S.H.I.E.L.D. - forever," Agent Triplett said begrudgingly. "The potential for blackmail alone, calling in a debt, is a story in and of itself."

"Same with Ward," Morse added. "It's up to two known enemies of S.H.I.E.L.D. for decades, whether of their free will or not, who can save us. Our hopes rest on them."

Coulson stared out at the visible flames, signaling a mass of destruction. "The irony is not lost on me."

XxXxXxXxXxX

"No wonder I liked you from the moment I saw you, son!" John claimed with a massive grin. "You're a true pyro! Look at you! You're shittin' flames!"

Grant ignored John and held Skye close. When he had first hugged her without thought, he had realized that he was going to burn her, but to his surprise, she hadn't been affected by his flames, seeming as surprised as he felt by that fact. Then the flash of awakened memories revealed the truth - his flames only burned those he wanted them to. Since he didn't want to burn Skye, he didn't burn her. It was just like with Tommy.

He looked around at the destruction around them, and he felt impressed. "Did you do all this?" he asked quietly. "Is your gift… awakened?"

Skye pulled away, bit her lip, and looked down. "Yeah."

Grant nodded. "And it's the ability to… shake things?"

"Something like that."

The dismay in her voice clawed at him, and he gripped her hand. "Well, I'll be the first to line up for you to shake me all night long."

Skye closed her eyes and a disbelieving laugh escaped her. "You did not just say that."

"You can rock me any night you want, all night long." He squeezed her hand before becoming serious. "But I'm just glad you're okay. I was worried."

"Me too," she rushed out, "but Raina was… convincing. She kept going on about the future and everything, how there's this Dark One - or It - who's gonna attack, and how we have to stop him - It."

"Will you ever get a break, son?" John wondered. "You should be on a beach somewhere drinking some fine scotch, not worrying about saving the world!"

"Let's stop Hydra first."

Skye nodded in determination before she faltered. "I need to make sure Coulson and the others are safe. Is that… alright?"

"They're your family," he said simply. "I understand. Find them, but be careful. My father, I suspect, is the one who's out there keeping Hydra busy. It's the only reason we haven't been attacked - beyond me getting shot twice and that one guy who craved death. But Hydra's still going strong for now."

Her eyes weren't surprised. "He is. I saw him when you… woke up. The light bounced off his metal arm - hard not to notice. Did Hydra kill any of S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

Still amazed that S.H.I.E.L.D. had arrived, Grant hesitated. "Fitz and Simmons are clearly not on the mission, but Tripp, May, Morse, Hunter, Coulson and other Agents were… threatened by my father to rescue us and destroy Hydra. Captain America, Sam Wilson, Hydra experiments my father freed in Wanda and Pietro, and then Romanoff herself are all here. They were all alive before the Temple opened."

He wasn't sure Skye's eyes could bulge from their sockets any further. "Black Widow's here?" she gasped, breathing elevated. "What about Iron Man? Is he here?"

Grant raised his brows. "Something tells me that Stark can't achieve the subtlety needed for such a mission."

"He doesn't need subtlety," Skye stressed, walking into the open, waving her arms in emphasis as she defended Stark's honor. "He only needs his brain."

"Then use yours and get out of the open," he countered, pulling her to the side.

"You're the one who's lit up like a rocket."

"You're a fucking beacon to all those brain-dead followers out there!" John roared. "Get your head out of your ass and think!"

Grant sighed and lowered the intensity of his flames. "Stark's not here. I don't know why. You can ask Rogers or Romanoff if it's bothering you so much."

"And your father?"

Remembering the welcoming he had received from his father earlier, Grant smiled thinly. "I'll handle him."

"And my father?"

"I don't know where he is. He's probably with Coulson. And I already made it more than clear to him that I'm taking your side over his."

Skye nodded before kneeling down to grab the Diviner from the rubble. "Can you destroy this?" she asked, holding it out to him.

Grant hesitated. "Are you sure? Isn't it an heirloom of- "

"I don't want it. It should be destroyed. It turns people into monsters."

"You're not a monster," he replied instantly, emphatically, and truthfully. "You're not. Take it from someone who didn't have access to the inheritance he didn't know he had, one day you'll want that back."

Skye sagged. "Fine."

"Now go find Coulson and S.H.I.E.L.D. while I join dear, old Dad."

John clapped rapidly with eagerness. "Finally! I can't wait to see how my golden boy measures up to The Soldier."

"You mean…?"

The flames brightened, spiraling even more around his body in protective layers, and his soul sang to the tune of sparks and crackles as he smirked. "Time to go hunting."

XxXxXxXxXxX

The Soldier lashed out from the protective embrace of the shadows and snared a Hydra Agent's neck with his flesh hand, instantly crushing it with a twitch of his deadly fingers while deflecting the onslaught of bullets with his bionic limb. Almost simultaneously, he rolled forward, smacked aside another Agent's weapon, and whipped him around as a shield. Then he threw the human shield forward and darted at an assailant with deadly grace, descending on him like a tide of death.

He ripped the assault weapon out of his hands and his bionic arm surged forward, crashing into the man's face, driving through jaw, teeth, muscles, bone, and eyes. He ripped his bionic limb out, blood and gore and bodily fluid slinging into the air. The man fell bonelessly to the ground, the gaping wound of his skull a stimulant to his bloodlust - he wanted more! And he would have more!

Gunshots echoed from behind him, but The Soldier was not concerned. Familiar red hair entered his vision, and Natalia reloaded her weapon.

"Are you keeping track?" she asked softly, curious.

"Distractions are unacceptable."

"Understood," Natalia replied easily. "I lost track after forty-five. That was a while ago."

Where are Wanda and Pietro? James demanded. Find them! Hydra may have captured them.

The Soldier scoffed in disgust. I am not responsible for their weakness. If they were captured, they must use their strength to escape. I saved them from Hydra once. They must learn. They will. If they die, it is their weakness, not ours.

James clawed at him, and the words escaped his lips. "Where are the twins?"

Natalia arched her brow. "I haven't seen them in a while, certainly not since the shaking stopped."

The Soldier said nothing in response, continuing his hunt, ignoring James's demands to look for the twins.

Suddenly, a flare of light gleamed off his bionic limb, registering in his peripheral vision. Prepared for an explosion, The Soldier pulled Natalia behind a giant mass of cracked stone. However, there was no explosion. The brilliant source approached, illuminating their surroundings.

All of the remaining Hydra forces were going to descend on them because the light was a beacon! It was unacceptable.

With a snarl, The Soldier adjusted his weapon, but before he surged out from the fading darkness, Natalia placed a calm hand on his flesh shoulder. "I think it's Grant. He's pyrokinetic, remember?"

Within moments, The Soldier hesitated - an impossibility! - as he slowly peaked past the stone. A being of pure fire walked toward them, reflecting off his metal arm.

My son, James whispered, and The Soldier thrashed in fury as James seized control.

Bullets began to shriek as Grant was a visible target, but before James could wield slaughter, Grant unleashed waves of fire in all directions while simultaneously dimming the brilliance of his flames.

The agonizing screams were music to his ears, and his son stepped closer, less brilliant but still remarkably dangerous, appearing made out of flames - it was most impressive.

Grant was Power, burning brighter than the hearts of stars.

A most worthy ally, The Soldier purred in delight.

"A worthy ally," James praised, appeasing The Soldier. "We could use the help."

Liar! The Soldier screeched in fury. I need no one, least of all your weaknesses! Unleash me, James! I will prove my superiority to your son!

Grant stepped into the shadows near them, illuminating their surroundings but shielding them from being glimpsed by the surviving Hydra Agents due to the way the broken rocks and pillars had landed from the quakes. "My pallor's better now. Still think I won't be a challenge?"

James felt amusement at The Soldier's abrupt deafening rage. "Not a challenge for Hydra."

"Care to make it interesting?"

"It already is." James raised his bionic limb, stained with blood and gore, gleaming in the light of Grant's flames. "It's the most interesting day of my life. It's redemptive."

Grant nodded and the flames melted away from his face to reveal a smirk while the flames remained covering the rest of his body. "Since you got a head start, Whitehall's mine. I need to fulfill my promise."

"Elaborate."

"I'm going to rip out his spine."

The Soldier's approval washed over him. Very worthy. Perhaps he is not merely your son but my son.

James nodded in agreement. "He is yours. Where is your woman?"

"Looking for S.H.I.E.L.D."

He looked at Natalia. "Help her. They were trapped by a wall of stone near the Temple. Steve is with them. Ensure Grant's woman is unharmed, and protect the trapped Agents until Grant and I return."

Natalia smirked. "Good. I couldn't keep up with your murder spree, anyway. Your son will clearly be much better company."

Worthier company, The Soldier whispered. Let us see our son's strength.

A different sensation of anticipation surged through James's veins, unlike anything he had experienced. He felt excited to slaughter Hydra with his son. "Redemptive, indeed."

Natalia backed away. "I'll leave you to it."

Grant turned to face her. "Watch Skye's back."

"You don't trust her skills?"

"She puts her heart into everything," his son countered. "If she's so focused on trying to find Coulson, Rogers, and the others and help them, she will leave herself open for attacks."

"Then watch his back," Natalia requested, pointing at James. "If you watch his back, I will watch Skye's back."

Before James could retort, insulted, Grant frowned, unimpressed. "You don't give me orders."

"I could be considered your stepmother."

"Consider harder."

Natalia's lips twitched, and James felt proud of his son. It was a strange but fulfilling feeling. "I see why The Soldier praises your worth."

"As do I," James added.

"I will ensure Skye is safe, along with Steve, Coulson, and S.H.I.E.L.D.," Natalia promised.

"Now go," James ordered, nodding his head. "We will watch Hydra writhe and die."

"And choke while pissing blood," Grant added easily, and The Soldier approved.

He watched her go, blending into the darkness, but due to his enhanced vision, he could still clearly see her.

James shifted to face his son. "Will you keep up?"

The flames began to brighten and the sheer heat evoked the instinct to sweat. "You're insulting me."

"You won't have to worry about insulting me, only The Soldier."

"What?"

"You'll understand," he promised and surrendered control to The Soldier, who erupted out of his consciousness with snarls of anticipation.

The Soldier assessed his son, who stiffened, eyes wary as he sensed the change. "Good. Your instincts are impressive," he intoned. "Hydra must die. Weakness is unacceptable. Do not succumb to it."

Flames burst in his son's eyes. "After you, Dad."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Whitehall backed away as the fires blazed with the intensity of stars, and he felt fear. Grant Ward's flames had returned - sparked by Death itself. When Agent Larson had killed Grant Ward, Whitehall had been enraged, but if he had known Death would revive the flames, he would have killed Grant Ward earlier before their trip to this Temple.

Now with his flames returned, there was no way to control him, not in a foreign location without the tools Hydra had designed to contain him.

All his remaining men were being slaughtered by the combined assault of Grant Ward and The Winter Soldier. And there were not many remaining. Nothing had gone according to plan!

"Retreat!" he ordered into the comms, seeing no other option. He would not fight to the death. He would regroup with Malick and destroy S.H.I.E.L.D. and The Soldier once and for all. He would then capture little Daisy and Grant Ward. His plans were still possible.

From his position, he watched the few remaining men bolt for escape from an inevitable death at the hands of either The Soldier or Grant Ward.

Whitehall watched Grant Ward's blazing path and cursed his arrogance. Never again would he commit such fallacies! His emotions had seized control - never again! Suddenly, Grant Ward's eyes latched onto him across the large distance, and Whitehall tensed, immediately, concealing himself in the ruins around him.

Fear terrorized his heart, but he swiftly reoriented himself. He glanced to the side to see Von Strucker's experiments, unconscious. His failure had led to some gain. They would satisfy his inquiries until he captured little Daisy.

Suddenly, a hand gripped his shoulder, and Whitehall gasped as a pain burned through his back - someone stabbed him. He stumbled away when the hand released him and turned to see Mr. Zabo smiling with glee.

Those eyes gleamed with monstrous madness. "Finally. You took everything of value from me. Now I take what you value most - your life!"

Whitehall pulled out the knife from his back and held it in front of him. "Do not mistake my build for someone who doesn't know combat," he warned. It had been a long time since he had fought, but he had combat experience. "I'm over a century old, Mr. Zabo. My experience dwarfs yours."

"And my hatred dwarfs yours," Mr. Zabo snarled, stomping closer. While Whitehall had permanently neutralized Mr. Zabo's strength, there had been no way to neutralize his motivation and will, for Mr. Zabo's madness prevented the Faustus Method from working properly. "I've thought of nothing but this moment for twenty-five years. Now that it's finally here, I see my imagination never compared to the actual reality of it."

Mr. Zabo lunged at him with extended hands, and Whitehall spun to the side and stabbed Mr. Zabo in the leg. Instantly, for maximum damage, Whitehall jammed the knife as deeply as he could and ripped it out, tearing through veins, bone, and muscles.

A howl reached him, and he failed to avoid the swinging arm that smashed into his face. He crashed to the ground and rolled to the side, avoiding a devastating foot that would have crushed his throat. He immediately jammed the knife into the foot but was thrown back by violent hands.

He landed next to Agent Larson's corpse, and he spied the gun used to 'kill' Grant Ward. He reached over and grabbed it, fingers wrapping around cool metal, and immediately fired with precision.

However, to his dread, Mr. Zabo didn't even seem to register the bullets through his chest, and before Whitehall could react, Mr. Zabo smacked the weapon away and wrapped his hands around his throat, squeezing with unrelenting strength.

Whitehall struggled and tried to fight, smashing his forearms into Mr. Zabo's, but he couldn't break the grip. Terror swept through him like the coldest of ice, and with Death so near, he sputtered and tried to speak, to beg for his life, to offer promises of indisputable wealth, but Mr. Zabo only grinned with awe and squeezed harder.

"Are you sorry?" Mr. Zabo demanded, hands wringing his neck for emphasis. "Do you feel regret?"

In answer, he managed to jam one of his thumbs into one of Mr. Zabo's eyes, pressing with his final moments until he registered the squishing of the eyeball. But there was no avoiding Death. The life he had done everything in his power to extend forever was being snuffed out by Mr. Zabo.

Whitehall's vision flickered and he choked desperately, legs kicking in his final effort to free himself, but Mr. Zabo's strength was relentless. His last perception was Mr. Zabo's bloody, tearful, joyful face before nothing.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The memories of control surged through his mind, and Grant knew how to use his flames. The training sessions administered by his mother and Zenfield were precise and had done their job. While he was rusty, the more he used his flames, the quicker his control increased, and the more he was willing to unleash all of the fire in his soul against the Hydra Agents surrounding them.

His father was incredible, and if Grant didn't have his flames back, he would have felt intimidated by the sheer, unimaginable skills and prowess of The Winter Soldier.

"Get him to teach you his secrets!" John shouted in encouragement. "Think about all the shit you could do if you had his skills! You could fuck this world into a coma if ya wanted to!"

Grant stretched out his arms, flames enlarging across the span of distance, and then he shoved his arms forward. Fire roared as it swept across the area, blazing bright, and the destruction and howls of death brought him pleasure. Immediately, he pivoted around and attacked the Agent hiding behind the debris. Lashing out, he melted the gun and swiftly broke the man's neck.

His father glanced at him with gleaming eyes. "Good."

"Atta boy, son!" John praised. "There can't be anything better than getting props from The Winter Soldier - not even getting your noodle wet!"

Grant disagreed, but he continued his pace. He had seen Whitehall, and he would hunt him down and give him a slow death, and as he had promised, end him painfully.

There weren't many Hydra Agents left; most of those remaining had fled into the tunnel systems, and Grant instinctively knew that almost all of them would escape without fear of death. Not even The Winter Soldier could be in two places at once, and Grant himself was more concerned with killing Whitehall than killing those at the bottom of the food chain.

However, his father tore through those few left while Grant weaved past debris and ruin, running fast, his fire propelling him even faster. Within moments, he reached the area where Whitehall had been, and his flames illuminated everything. He spotted Whitehall instantly, but there was no anticipation, only surprise.

Wanda and Pietro were unconscious, chests moving indicating life, but that wasn't what mattered.

Whitehall laid, unmoving, in the ruins. Kneeling over him, Skye's father panted for breath, blood spilling out of wounds in his chest, leg, and foot.

"That Commie motherfucker!" John screamed in outrage. "He stole your kill, son!"

Grant coughed loudly, alerting Skye's father that he was not alone.

Skye's father shakily turned around, and Grant knew he would be joining Whitehall in death momentarily. While one eye was nothing more than a bloody mess, the wounds in his chest were fatal, and Grant was honestly surprised that Skye's father hadn't died already.

The eye that was once insane was now peaceful and lucid, and it roamed over him in amazement. "You are beautiful, too."

"Your daughter thinks so," he drawled, approaching Skye's father. "Can you walk?"

"I'll see Jiaying soon," Skye's father whispered, and Grant saw remnants of the man he had been prior to his wife's demise and daughter's kidnapping. "I kept my promise. She is avenged, and Daisy is awakened. She is beautiful now - like her mother."

Grant bowed his head. "You're the worthier monster," he acknowledged. "You got to Whitehall first."

Skye's father's hazy eye locked onto him. "You'll catch up soon. Daisy's gift, is it the shaking?"

"It is."

The shuddering exhale of relief echoed in the air. "Good. That's good. It's all I've ever wanted for her."

Grant slowly sat down near him, maintaining his flames; he didn't fully trust Skye's father. Their eyes both stared at Whitehall's corpse.

"You should be proud," Grant said softly. "Not just anyone can kill a Hydra Head."

"He was a wife-murderer," Skye's father corrected. The words were spaced, getting weaker. "They are easy to kill. He was always a man."

"I commend you."

"And I you."

"You're dying," he observed quietly. "Any last words you want me to give to… Daisy?"

Skye's father shuddered. "I love my daughter, Grant. I loved her from the moment she opened her eyes, and I will love her until my eyes close forever any moment now. Tell her I loved her. Tell her I fought for her when no one else would. Tell her I was proud of her and the life she made for herself. Tell her she shouldn't be scared of her awakening; there are others out there like her."

"Where?"

"I don't know. They will find her when the time is right."

Grant wished to ask more questions, but he nodded. "I'll tell her."

Skye's father slowly turned to him, face deathly pale, body trembling, and his eye was hazy. "She looks at you like Jiaying looked at me; she loves you, and she will marry you. You have proved you're worthy of her. Now you must do something."

"What?"

"Burn him to ashes," Skye's father ordered softly, and they both knew to whom he alluded. "Ensure he doesn't heal."

Grant jumped to his feet and the flames illuminated everything. He focused the intensity into his palms and then smiled as blazing fire consumed Whitehall's body entirely, melting flesh, boiling eyes, and blackening bones, consuming everything until nothing remained.

There would be no regeneration.

"A wedding gift?" Grant quipped, unsure of what else to say. What did he say to Skye's father as he laid, dying?

Skye's father chuckled, blood spilling past his lips, and his eyes were dimming, words shallow and barely audible, but due to Grant's enhanced senses, he heard them. "I was once like you. Be better than me to my daughter. When the time comes, be a worthier husband than I was. I'm… trusting you. Keep Daisy safe. Do… what… I couldn't."

"Always," Grant swore, meaning it more than anything he had ever said.

A final shuddering breath passed Skye's father's lips, and all was silent.

"Pretty anticlimactic," John muttered.

Grant ignored John and kneeled down, brushing Skye's father's eyelid over his unmarred, open eye. "Find your wife," he whispered. "Find your peace."

"He killed Whitehall?"

His eyes widened at the sound of his father's voice, and Grant stood up and turned around. Sure enough, his father stood only several feet away, and Grant had no idea if he had been there the whole time. It was amazing and terrifying at the same time.

"Learn his tricks! Learn everything you can!"

"He did," Grant confirmed. "And he died for his vengeance."

"An understandable impulse," his father intoned.

Grant nodded and failed not to look at a grinning John. "Sometimes the most understandable one."

"I congratulate him."

"He wouldn't care."

His father bristled. "I am the paramount predator born of hatred and agony- "

Grant sighed, starting to understand that his father was a lot more complicated than he had originally believed. He was almost certain there were two sides to him - James and The Soldier - but he needed confirmation from Romanoff.

"And I'm not remotely interested," he interrupted tiredly. "I have to tell Skye that her father died on my watch."

"You tender-hearted Choir Boy!"

"He achieved peace. That is enough."

"You're not helping."

"You are not superior."

Grant took in The Soldier's stance, the blood and gore staining almost every part of him. "I suppose not," he said. "You've got a couple decades of experience on me. It was an honor to watch you work."

As expected, his father accepted the praise. "While you succumb to weakness, you hold worth that no one else possesses. You carry my blood, my strength, and you have proven it. You are worthy."

"But not superior," he reminded flatly.

His father nodded mechanically. "You are a rival, but not an equal."

Grant chuckled. "Hell of a way to ingratiate yourself." He gestured to Wanda and Pietro's unconscious forms. "I'm sure they'd agree."

His father walked over and kneeled down and harshly but not violently smacked Pietro's face with his flesh hand, waking him from slumber.

Pietro winced and blinked rapidly. "Barnes? What's- … You're on fire," he said dumbly, staring at Grant in amazement.

Grant rolled his eyes. "And you missed the fun."

"You're like us," Pietro said, standing to his feet. "You have powers, too. I already knew that, but it's another thing to see it."

"It is," he agreed. He did feel the same way. He already knew about his flames, but feeling them and seeing them was different.

Pietro stretched his neck. "That button, it did something to us! There was so much pain." He looked at Wanda lying next to him. "Wanda! Wake up! We have company!"

Wanda's eyes opened. "Grant!"

Grant's brows rose. "Should Skye feel jealous?"

Her eyes looked at him warmly as she stood up. "I'm glad you're alright. The gamble paid off."

"Thanks for… sending me there," he said.

"Where is Natalia?" his father demanded.

Wanda pointed to the distance near the Temple. "Everyone's down there."

"Are they harmed?"

"Well, Steve's foot is crushed, but it's nothing serious."

"Anything else?"

"Several senses of pride have been wounded, but that's all."

Grant raised his brows. "Hunter?"

Wanda smiled serenely. "And Agent May."

John blinked in amazement and peered at him. "Now just wound more of her. Burn her to ash like you did Whitehall! She deserves it."

"That's interesting," Wanda commented, barely meeting his gaze. "Quite eerie, actually. Your father- "

Grant stiffened. "I'm not above burning you alive. Don't look in my mind. My brain's been messed with enough."

Pietro's eyes widened in outrage, but Wanda placed a hand in his arm. "No, it's alright. We'd say the same in his position."

"Not as violently," Pietro said, eyeing him angrily.

Wanda shrugged. "And not with as much certainty."

"Deviation is unacceptable," his father intoned suddenly.

"Lead the way," Grant said to Wanda, smiling tightly.

XxXxXxXxXxX

She had passed countless corpses, drawn to the origin of what she suspected to be a nexus of heartbeats, and she was getting closer. Her gift was taking a lot to get used to, and while she felt like a monster based on the terrible destruction that she - she! - was responsible for, she wanted to understand her gift, especially after Raina's prophecies.

A massive stone wall was pressed into a corner, but behind the slab, she sensed the pulsating heart rates. In case it was Hydra, she held her gun in one hand and the Diviner in the other, the memory of what she had done to Agent Milton fresh in her mind, even though she was pretty certain her gift could somehow protect her - like Grant's flames clearly protected him!

She edged past the corner, seeing a congregation of tightly-pressed legs, and then she saw the edge of the famous shield she had seen on video footage. Her lips parted, and anticipation thrummed in her blood.

The conversation that reached her ears at once made her smile and roll her eyes:

"Come on!" That was Hunter. "Somebody claim it! Confess! It's bad enough we're all breathing the same air, but now the air's infested with fart. I have a right to know who's fart I'm breathing in."

"And I have a right not to know," Morse replied in aggravation. Skye had the feeling that it was par for the course. "And frankly, my rights supersede yours."

"How can you say that? Oh, it was you, wasn't it?"

"No, it wasn't. Haven't you heard, ignorance is bliss?"

"But isn't it killing you, Bob? I've seen what Tripp eats - and it's disgusting!"

"It wasn't me," Tripp's familiar voice said. "No wonder the marriage didn't last. I'm barely lasting just listening to you."

"No offense, but I don't want to see any of you for a while after this," an unfamiliar voice said. "I've never even gotten this close on a first date. The fact I've gotten this close to all of you without knowing all your names is a low moment for me."

"I don't want to see any of you but Phil right now," May's familiar voice said.

"Bucky and Natasha shouldn't be too much longer," the voice of Captain America said, and Skye felt giddy. While he wasn't Iron Man, Captain America was still an Avenger!

"And we'll find Skye and Ward," Coulson's familiar voice said. "They'll be together."

"Unfortunately," May said bitterly.

"Coulson?" Skye finally called out.

A gasp echoed. "Skye? You're okay!"

"A little worse for wear," she replied, feeling awkward. "Are you all stuck?"

"Yes!" Hunter cried out. "And we're breathing in fart right now! Go find Barnes - that's The Winter Soldier - or your boyfriend! I can't take much more of this."

Skye rolled her eyes. "I know who The Winter Soldier is, Hunter. Grant sent me to find you guys."

"Where is he?" May demanded.

"He was more equipped to answer the invite to the Hydra Murder Party forwarded by his father," she replied. "Trust me, Whitehall won't be alive much longer." Venom slipped into her tone at the thought of that bastard, and the ground rumbled; she paled before she swiftly controlled it. "He's been living on stolen time."

"Meaning?"

Skye suddenly realized how little S.H.I.E.L.D. knew. "Um… now's not the right time. I'll tell you later."

"We have nothing but time, girl," Tripp called out dryly. "I'm game if you are."

"Coulson didn't die and make you boss!" Hunter snapped. "You don't speak for all of us!"

"It's nice to meet you, Agent Skye," Captain America interrupted kindly, and even though Skye could only see their legs, she was certain that Captain America was being sincere.

"It's nice to meet you, too, sir," Skye responded, barely keeping her voice even and free from the excitement she felt.

"Just Steve," Captain America insisted.

"Then just Skye for me, Steve," she said, feeling giddy that she was on a first-name basis with Captain America - Captain America!

"How come she gets to call you 'Steve' but we all have to call you 'sir' and 'Captain'?" Hunter demanded, offended.

"Because she's not annoying," the unfamiliar voice interjected. "And maybe it's a family matter."

"I think you need that drink again," Hunter said, and Skye could hear the smirk in his voice. It oddly reminded her of Grant. "You look - and feel - like you're starting to get the shakes. It'd probably help you get rid of that stick up your ass."

"It'd help me stick it up yours."

Hunter laughed. "Maybe you're not so bad."

Before Skye could interrupt and get the conversation back on track, pulses registered inside her, and she whirled around, holding the Diviner in front of her as a weapon, to see the figure of a woman staring at her in the shadows. Within moments, she recognized the woman.

Skye gasped in awe, lowering the Diviner and her pistol. "You're Black Widow!"

"Natasha's here?" Captain America asked. "What about Bucky?"

"Just her," she called out, distracted, focused on Black Widow.

Black Widow raised an impressed brow and stepped into the light provided by Grant's flames in the distance. "Not many can sense my stealth."

She swallowed. "Well… you know, lucky guess."

"Skye, I presume?"

"Yes."

Black Widow eyed her, and Skye tried not to fidget. "I see why Grant was drawn to you."

Taking in the skin-tight suit that emphasized her figure and curves, Skye straightened. "And I see why The Soldier was drawn to you."

A brief smile crossed Black Widow's face, and amusement and respect flashed in her eyes. "Oh, I like you."

The giddiness she felt continued to grow, making her feel lighter for the first time since she and Grant had slept together after Dr. Zenfield's.

It was almost enough to help her forget of her awakened monstrosity - almost.

"Natasha, where's Grant and Bucky?" Captain America demanded, and Skye had to get control of herself! She was talking with two - two! - of The Avengers! Not to mention, she would be meeting Grant's father, The Winter Soldier! She couldn't control her heartbeat, and the ground rumbled slightly again before she swiftly put a lid on it. No one but Black Widow seemed to make the connection, raising an inquisitive eyebrow before turning to face the slab of stone.

"I left them alone for some father-son bonding," she explained. "Executing the monsters employed by Hydra together should be a fond memory for them."

"That's what a nice murder spree will do for you," Hunter said dryly. "But let us have some fun, too! Can't you get us out of here?"

"Only James or Grant can help Steve move the stone."

Skye thought of her powers but didn't feel comfortable sharing them.

Fire suddenly flared in the distance, and they felt the heat wash over them.

"We're putting him on the Index, right?" May demanded. "He's a threat."

Skye opened her mouth to defend Grant, but shockingly, Coulson spoke first. "Sergeant Barnes gains custody of Ward. That was the deal, May. We must uphold it. If Ward chooses to return with us, that is his right. My offer was genuine."

"Barnes didn't see fit to notify us of Ward's powers. He breached the agreement."

She had no idea what agreement they were talking about, but she suspected it had to do with how The Winter Soldier had managed to ally with S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Even if that were the case, which I don't think it is," Coulson replied, "I won't be imprisoning Ward. I've made mistakes, and I'm going to do my best to make sure they don't happen again. We should have rehabilitated him, May. Think of what he can do, think. What we did to him - sending him to the Senator, who I'm certain lied to me when I met with him, not helping him when he clearly needed it after his suicide attempts - warrants indignant retribution, and he would be in the right. Yes, we thought he was playing an angle, attempting to manipulate us, but we didn't even try to discern the truth, as he rightly pointed out. That's what's most damning to me - that we didn't try. We're better than that; we have to be. The fact is, he's tried a lot harder than we have. He's successfully tried not to kill us when he easily could have multiple times. We didn't reciprocate, and that's unacceptable. That's not what S.H.I.E.L.D. stands for. Ward's showing us mercy. It's time we show him the same."

"I know I already said this, but it's good to have you back, sir," Tripp said warmly.

Skye somehow felt May's fists clench, felt her heart race with indignation. "He could be playing us, playing you. He may come to the Playground and kill all of us."

"Not this again," Tripp interrupted, sounding exasperated, and Skye was speechless. Apparently, S.H.I.E.L.D. had been talking about Grant a lot. "That would fly in the face of his actions when Hydra revealed itself. You've said his actions were that of a monster, but he didn't even try to cross us all off a list written by Garrett. The fact FitzSimmons are still alive is the biggest testament to that fact. Ward's the best, and FitzSimmons are the most unqualified people to ever be in the field and see combat. If Ward wanted to, he could have effortlessly killed them, which is apparently what Garrett wanted. But Ward didn't do that, and according to Fitz, allowed them to make it to the escape pod instead of filling their bodies with lead the moment he saw them - which is what all Specialists would do in that situation. Hell, it's what I would do, and I damn well know it's what you would do in such a situation, May. It's how we're trained, but Ward flouted all his training and orders to spare FitzSimmons when, if he's a monster, he shouldn't have. Yes, Fitz was wounded badly, but I believe Fitz more you. Because Fitz is adamant, even after that happened, that the pods were designed to float. I found the specs for them, and he's right - they were supposed to float. And according to those specs, Ward could have pretty easily broken into them with his skills and training. It wouldn't have taken too long nor much effort, not for a man of Ward's caliber, a Specialist of his caliber. He can disarm nuclear bombs blindfolded; he could have effortlessly disarmed the system for the pods. Ward saved their lives. In a way, Ward's saved all of our lives."

"Tripp's right," Morse added, and Skye nearly wavered on her feet. She had expected a bitter struggle and fight to get S.H.I.E.L.D. to give Grant a second chance, to try to trust him, at least a little bit, but it seemed like Grant had a lot more people in his corner besides her. She loved Fitz so much. "I said Ward's looking for redemption, and I stand by that statement. He's shown us all mercy when, logically, he shouldn't have. His actions are more convincing than your words, May."

"A hell of a lot more convincing," Hunter clarified.

"Ward's mercy is the same as his father's - a knife to our throats," May said boldly, and Skye tried to hear her newest S.O., but she was firmly on Grant's side, not May's. "It's a monster's type of mercy."

"Is there something wrong with Bucky's mercy, Agent May?" Captain America asked, voice tight, on the verge of an eruption. Skye held her breath. "From where I stand, you are undeserving of any mercy."

"That's cold coming from Captain America," May snapped.

"I'm a soldier," Captain America stated bluntly. "I've heard a lot worse."

"Ward betrayed S.H.I.E.L.D., and he murdered many good men and women in the name of a monster. I should have put him down like the animal he is when I had the chance."

Captain America's voice lowered, an indication of fury. "Is the truth so convoluted that only you can understand it? What about Bucky? He murdered many good men and women in the name of monsters. Should he be put down like an animal when he was brainwashed into being a killer?"

"Like Ward, Barnes had a choice. Like father, like son," May said flatly, tonelessly. She was the coldest woman alive, and Skye realized it was a very - very! - wrong approach.

Black Widow stepped forward, and the freezing chill in her eyes sent shivers up and down Skye's spine that had nothing to do with her gift. "A false objective statement filled with subjectivity," she snarled. "I expect more from The Calvary, killer of a child."

Silence.

May said nothing while exclamations erupted from Morse, Hunter, and Tripp.

Skye remembered when Grant had revealed the truth of May's actions in Bahrain to her. Initially, she hadn't believed him, had scorned his words and called him a liar, but then she had found the psychological report in the data dump that Black Widow herself had caused.

It was true.

"Unloading all of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s files afforded me a lot of knowledge," Black Widow continued. "At first, I held sympathy for you, for I know the trials through which Life burns you, but now, I feel nothing but disgust. You have closed yourself off. Where is your necessary empathy, May? Your sympathy? Your understanding? You are a disgrace to all who experience trauma, too narrow-minded to understand the complex ubiquity of Life, how unavoidable situations arise that lead to a choice between unacceptable options - caught between a rock and a hard place. You are pathetically compromised and unable to think rationally or reasonably. You should thank Fury he did not think to name me Director, for if I were, you would have long been demoted - if not terminated."

"And I heard what Grant said earlier," Captain America added, fire in his voice. Skye had no idea how to defuse the rapidly escalating situation. "I know about his history because Natasha and Bucky actually looked for the truth, unlike you. You sent him to his older brother for execution, the same brother who murdered Grant's twin! He tried to explain himself, to give you the answers you sought, but you only responded with hatred and ridicule. You tortured him for months, and you poisoned his meals. Most damning, you encouraged his suicide."

Blood roared in Skye's ears, and she swallowed in shameful horror. "Actually, sir - I mean, Steve - that… that was me." Black Widow's eyes consumed her, and she barely held onto her control to prevent the ground from rumbling. "I'm the one who… who encouraged him to run faster. It was wrong, and I'm horrified by what I said. It… it sickens me. I'd go back in time and knock some sense into my younger self if I could."

"Yet, Grant has forgiven Skye," Black Widow immediately said, surprising Skye, who stared at her second-favorite Avenger with wide eyes. "He has already proven, again, to be better than you, forgiving someone for a gross offense. He has proven to be more humane than you."

Silence.

"Very kind of you, Romanoff," Grant's amused voice drifted in the air. "Maybe you could be considered my stepmother, after all."

Skye whirled around and saw Grant and The Winter Soldier, along with two teenagers, standing about thirty yards away. She had no idea how much he had heard, but she was relieved that he was alright. She darted forward, putting away her pistol and dropping the Diviner, and wrapped her arms around him, uncaring of the flames. The bright light was uncomfortable, but she felt warm and safe. The events of the past two weeks finally began to bleed away knowing that it was all over, that they were safe and had survived Whitehall's inquiries.

The Winter Soldier and two teenagers brushed past them, giving them space, but she paid them no mind.

"Thank you for killing Whitehall," Skye said, staring up at Grant.

The flames drifted away from his face, but they stayed spiraling down the rest of his body. Skye suspected that he was addicted to the feeling of having his flames back. She couldn't blame him even though she was absolutely not - not! - addicted to her gift.

"It wasn't me," he said softly, holding her gaze with serious eyes. "Your father killed him."

Skye blinked and looked around. She noticed that The Winter Soldier was communicating with Captain America about moving the massive stone slab, receiving input from Black Widow and the two teenagers, but she didn't see her father.

"What, is he eating Whitehall's body or something? Ripping it to pieces?" she asked. "Where is he?"

Grant's eyes were solemn. "He's gone. The price for ending Whitehall's life was his own. I'm sorry."

The words floated in the air, entering her ears and coiling around her heart, but Skye wasn't sure how she felt. "He's dead?" she whispered.

"I'm sorry. He was proud of you, more than you know."

She smiled tightly. "Sure. I know."

Grant's eyes were serious, containing depths and memories. "No, you don't. He loved you. He loved you his entire life, from your birth to his death. He always fought for you in the only way he knew how. And he was so proud of you. He was proud of the woman you've become and the life you've made for yourself."

Tears welled in her eyes. "You're lying," she gasped out, unable to believe it.

"Not to you, never to you."

A tightness descended over her heart, and she found it hard to breathe. The ground shook slightly, but Grant's arms offered more solace than her gift ever could, and the shaking stopped. "No, no," she mumbled, squeezing her eyes shut. "He was a monster."

"A monster to others," Grant corrected gently. "But to you, he tried to do better in the only way he knew how. You and your mother were his entire world, and his world shattered when she died and you were taken. He hadn't known peace since then, and he did everything he could to re-attain that peace. And in his final moments, he did re-attain it. He was proud of you, Skye, and he wasn't lying when he told me."

She sniffed and wiped away her tears. "You understand - understood - him."

"I know what it's like to lose your whole world."

Skye tensed for an entirely different reason. "Garrett wasn't your whole world, Grant."

"I wasn't talking about him."

Her lips parted in shock, and her eyes roamed his face, trying to see if he was joking or lying, but there was an honesty shining in his gorgeous eyes that she wasn't sure she had seen before.

"What… who are you talking about?" she demanded intently, needing to know. How she needed to know!

"Tommy."

Skye's eyes drifted shut in a mixture of emotions. While she felt euphoric that Grant was finally beginning to understand that Garrett was the biggest liar to ever walk the planet, she also felt incredible sorrow at the reminder that Grant's twin brother, whom he adored more than anyone in his life, was murdered, drowning before his eyes.

"He was my twin," Grant said, barely audible, the words seemingly conjured from the deepest parts of his soul. "He was my world. And Christian snuffed him out. Then John came, and he became my new world." There was a sudden pit in Skye's stomach at that admission, but she listened, mesmerized. "Now, you're my world."

The weight of that statement blew her away, and she inhaled slowly, trying to remain calm. "I'm… not sure that's healthy," she murmured, more aware than ever that there was an audience about thirty yards away.

"I see John's ghost," Grant replied, amused. "That's not healthy. You being my world… maybe that's normal. Look at Romanoff and… my father. I think most men's families are their world. You're my family, and that makes you my world."

"Are you supposed to be my world?" she asked anxiously. "Because I think the world of you, I love you, but I- "

Grant's brows rose. "That was nice to hear."

She blinked. "What?"

"You love me."

"I haven't said that before?"

"No."

She narrowed her eyes. "Yes, I have."

"I would remember if you did. I have a long memory."

Skye sighed. "What do you call us sleeping together?" At the look on his face, she abruptly shook her head. "Do I want to know?"

"I thought you felt pity for me after Zenfield," he said flatly. "I knew you loved me, but I didn't think you were going to acknowledge it. I also thought it was a good distraction from meeting your father."

She tried to ignore the fact that her father was now dead. "While both of those things are wrong - okay, maybe it was a little bit of a distraction, but it helped us both, and I know we both wanted it more than anything - what do you call the fact that- … What did I say? You were saying something when we were locked up about how you shouldn't have brought me here and stuff, how I wasn't safe, but then I said something about how I'm more safe knowing you love me or something. Yes, it was really cheesy, but I thought it would lighten the mood."

Grant smirked. "You acknowledged my feelings, not yours."

Skye huffed. "Okay, fine. Now I don't love you. How about that?"

"You're lying."

Despite herself, a grin crossed her face. "What gave me away?"

"Many things," he said, lowering his face to her cheek, breath ghosting past her hair and over her ear. "Too many to discuss right now. We'll continue later in a more intimate setting. We have an audience."

She was so looking forward to that intimate setting.

Skye turned around to see Coulson, May, Morse, Tripp, Hunter, an unfamiliar man who looked somewhat familiar, the two teenagers, Captain America, The Winter Soldier, and Black Widow shamelessly observing them from the thirty-yard distance. Their eyes were clearly fascinated that she wasn't being burned alive by Grant's flames.

To be honest, she was fascinated, too, but she thought it was amazing. For the first time in her life, she could see the beauty in fire - illuminated by Grant.

The stone slab had been removed by Captain America and The Winter Soldier, but she and Grant had been too engrossed in their conversation to pay it any attention. Or maybe it was just her. Grant had probably been aware the entire time - stupid Super-spies.

She picked up the Diviner as she and Grant walked forward to meet them, and Coulson's familiar gaze was such a welcome sight. Before she or anyone else could say anything, The Winter Soldier's eyes consumed her.

Anxiety churned inside as The Winter Soldier looked her over before looking at Grant with a brief nod. "Well done."

Skye rolled her eyes, and before she could reconsider talking back to the deadliest assassin in the history of the world, she said, "You should congratulate me. Do you have any idea how hard it was to forgive your asshole of a son?"

"Not hard enough," May muttered.

Black Widow's lips curled. "Congratulations, Skye. I know from experience how… stubborn Super-Soldiers are."

Captain America shrugged in admittance. "The serum amplifies everything that's already there, including traits such as stubbornness."

The unfamiliar man who she finally recognized as Sam Wilson nodded in agreement. "That's for damn sure."

"Skye," Coulson said, smiling. "I'm glad you're alright."

She thought of her gift and the destruction all around them that she was certain she caused and smiled tightly. "Thanks. What's this I hear about you going insane?"

Coulson's eyes darted to Grant. "You didn't hold back, did you?"

Grant's responding smirk was predatory, and when coupled with his flames, Skye felt concerned he was going to attack. "I promised Skye I wouldn't lie to her. I keep my promises. I told her the truth when you wouldn't."

"Was it your truth or my truth?"

"I may or may not have sprinkled some of your truth in there."

"Meaning?"

"I didn't feel very charitable. I still don't."

May's face pinched with rage, but Coulson only sighed. "That's understandable."

"Were you really shipping Grant to his brother for execution?" Skye demanded.

Coulson's eyes were pained when he met her gaze. "Yes. I'm sorry, Skye. I was compromised by the GH-325; it made me insane. I couldn't think clearly, and I have amends to make. Mistakes were made that must be fixed. There was an alien voice that distorted my reason."

"It's gone now that the Temple was activated," the teenage girl commented casually. "It's very refreshing. He's smarter than I initially thought."

Coulson hesitated. "Thank you… Wanda."

"You're looking good, girl," Tripp greeted, and Skye smiled as he eyed her. "Glad Ward didn't fatten you up so he could catch you if you ran away."

Skye laughed while Grant's brows rose. "John never mentioned how big your balls are. I'm impressed."

Tripp frowned. "I don't want to hear about Garrett, Ward."

"Then you're insulting me."

"And you're blinding me," Hunter interrupted, shielding his eyes with his hand; he wasn't the only one. "Do you mind? I can't believe it took someone this long to ask."

Now that Hunter mentioned it, Skye agreed. "Are you really gonna keep that up?" she asked awkwardly, gesturing to his armor of flames, squinting harshly due to the bright light.

Grant sighed and exhaled slowly, and the flames vanished. His sudden nudity was so unexpected that she gaped for several seconds, too stunned, for she had never considered that his flames would burn through his clothes. But then as her eyes roamed him instinctively, she grinned and felt the ground rumble beneath them; the fact they had an audience vanished from their mind.

"I know this is a really bad time, and I feel ashamed for even thinking it at such a time, but after all this is over, let's get another drink."

Grant made a half-hearted attempt to cover himself with his hands. "I thought there were no more drinks for me."

"Oh, that was a total lie," she dismissed, still smiling. Forget what she had thought about that intimate setting. She didn't need an intimate setting. She was ready right now. "Couldn't you tell, Super-spy?"

"I was a little distracted."

Her smile abruptly vanished when she remembered the others. She turned to them in a panic, finding various ranges of emotion - horrified disgust to amused discomfort to indifference.

Black Widow didn't react beyond glancing at The Winter Soldier. "He is your son."

May looked like she was imagining all the ways she could castrate Grant while Morse's eyebrows had risen, but beyond that, there was no reaction. Tripp looked too tired to care, Sam Wilson looked away, along with Captain America. The two teenagers looked amused, Coulson looked composed, and The Winter Soldier simply stared at Grant with an assessing gaze.

"Never mind, turn the fire back on," Hunter said, shielding his eyes again. "Cover yourself up. I already have enough to feel shy about."

"I doubt that," Sam Wilson muttered.

"It's not as big as it looks," May said flatly, eyes flashing. "Trust me."

Skye glared at May. "Trust me, it is as big as it looks - even bigger!"

Grant's soft chuckle reached her eyes. "I appreciate you defending my honor, but I can more than handle it."

"Clearly," Hunter scoffed out in a defeated mumble. "Stupid tall Super-Soldiers with their perfect, manly looks and bodies. Just standing next to you guys makes me feel like I need a huge shot of testosterone. Can't you give us normal guys a chance?"

"There's nothing normal about you," Morse said sweetly.

Hunter perked up. "Well, if normal is the hallmark of mediocrity- "

"'Hallmark of mediocrity'?" Grant interrupted, brows rising. "Really?"

"It sounded smart," Hunter defended. "I think Simmons said it one time. And I have to have an edge with you now around."

"And being smart is your best edge?"

Hunter looked betrayed, and Skye wondered what Grant had done to gain Hunter's trust so quickly. "Why are you sounding so smart, now? You're trying to show me up!" Hunter wildly gestured to Grant's nudity. "Case in point!"

"I think you mean, case in penis," Sam Wilson corrected.

Coulson cleared his throat. "Speaking of, I believe your… situation necessitates decorum, Ward. Would somebody give him something…?"

Skye almost laughed when Captain America limped forward and awkwardly offered Grant his famous shield. "Here you go," he said softly, averting his eyes.

Grant accepted the shield and covered himself from the front.

Coulson's eye twitched in outrage. "Perhaps something besides America's shield would suffice in giving Ward the necessary privacy."

"Oh, it's not at all necessary, D.C.," Skye said, grinning.

Grant readjusted the shield slightly. "According to you."

Skye shrugged and her churning anxiety about her gift diminished slightly. "Well, you look good with the shield, so keep it. And don't give it back until I get a picture of you with it!" Her eyes widened in dread, and she turned to Captain America sheepishly. "Sorry. Would that be okay?"

Captain America looked overwhelmed, but he nodded slowly. "I suppose."

"Don't be getting your dirty dick all over that shield, man," Tripp advised. "That's just not good manners."

Grant glanced at her and smirked. "I'm flattered you think I'm so well-endowed I can reach the apex of the shield from my position- "

"Can we talk about something else?" Captain America interjected, squirming. Skye thought it was adorable. "Will there be a clean-up?"

The Winter Soldier's expression terrified Skye, for she recognized Grant in that dark fury. "Hydra rots. Their name will be eradicated from History. I am their doom, and I will never stop until they are but bones beneath my feet."

Skye was speechless, and her fear increased when Black Widow only rolled her eyes. "Understood, Soldier."

"Hydra still lives."

"And we will ensure their time is numbered," Black Widow assured calmly. Skye was amazed, for The Winter Soldier was terrifying. "Malick remains along with those who escaped today, and maybe a few others, but we struck a crushing blow to Hydra."

"It was not enough," The Winter Soldier intoned. "It never will be until they are dead."

Black Widow looked annoyed, but she understandably nodded in agreement. "It is inevitable."

Silence.

"I'll get a change of clothes," Grant suddenly said, gesturing to the numerous corpses. "I have plenty to choose from."

"But not a lot of variety," Hunter observed, smiling. "Now you won't look so good. I'm getting my edge back."

"Do I look like I care?"

Hunter shrugged. "I think that's just your permanent facial expression."

"Skye would know better than you," Grant dismissed, turning to the corpses, giving her a nice view of his ass as he found a corpse that clearly looked the same size as him.

"Well?" Hunter asked expectantly. "Is that his permanent facial expression?"

Skye shrugged. "He doesn't look at me with that expression, but maybe I'm just special and warrant a nicer expression."

Sam Wilson rolled his eyes. "Sounds right."

"Wait!" she suddenly called out as Grant tried to strip the clothes off the corpse one-handed but was failing. "I need a picture of you with the shield!"

"I'll strip the body, Ward," Tripp volunteered. "It will save us from a bad image."

"Speak for yourself," Skye said, distracted, as she grabbed a phone out of one of the dead Agent's pockets, quickly hacked into it, and snapped several photos of Grant with Captain America's shield. Then she sent them to her secure server that only she could get into. Then she erased her presence and put the phone back.

"All good," she notified.

Tripp handed Grant the clothes, and Grant threw Captain America his shield back before efficiently dressing himself. It only took a minute.

"So, that's what you look like as a regular Hydra Agent?" Skye teased, looking him up and down. "Honestly, you don't look that hot."

"And your opinion is the only one relevant on that subject."

"Exactly."

"You guys have a weird relationship," Hunter said, looking at them, fascinated.

Grant's brows rose. "Weirder than you and Morse's?"

"I believe it's time to go," Morse wisely interjected before Hunter could respond to Grant's question. "We need to see if any Agents made it out and survived. They may be waiting for us on the surface, from where we entered."

Coulson nodded. "Let's go."

They began to shuffle out, but Skye noticed that Grant didn't move. She walked to him. "What's wrong?"

He glanced at The Winter Soldier, who also hadn't moved. "You go ahead," he said quietly. "The Hydra murder spree's over. He and I need to talk without bullets interrupting us. And we should probably do it without an audience."

She squeezed his hand briefly. "Are you sure?"

"I'll be fine. If he attacks me, I'll burn his face off like I did Jasper."

Skye remembered Ward's family butler-turned-assassin that the Senator had sent after them so long ago. "You remember?"

"I remember everything."

"I'm glad," she whispered, smiling. "Or is that a bad thing?"

"A good thing," Grant assured. "It gives me… clarity. I understand now. I remember."

She nodded and let go of his hand and glanced at The Winter Soldier for a moment, seeing the physical similarities between father and son, but the way they held themselves was entirely different. Where Grant was relaxed, The Winter Soldier was stiff and prepared for combat. Beside him, the two teenagers stood, and Skye didn't know if they were staying or not.

She walked back to everyone else, where Black Widow briefly touched her arm, a demand for conversation.

"You love him," Black Widow observed.

Skye nodded. "I thought I didn't for a long time, but I was lying. If anything, I think I'm actually thankful for the Hydra reveal. I know him a lot better now."

As they began to follow everyone through the tunnel, lagging behind to gain some semblance of privacy, something resembling sorrow flashed through Black Widow's eyes. "I wish you better luck than I had."

Remembering the story of what happened, Skye felt incredible sympathy. "But your luck's better now."

"Maybe. So much time was lost. It can't be regained."

"I really have no idea what it was like for you, and I'm not gonna insult you by trying, but I know the feeling of time lost on a much smaller scale," she said slowly. "You think about it, yeah, but to dwell on it is gonna do nothing for you in the end. You work to make sure the time in the future is filled with good times."

"Usually, there must be two willing participants," Black Widow replied, "but there are three. The Soldier despises me. Part of James despises me."

Skye hesitated, feeling her heart go out to Black Widow. "I'm not sure I should tell you this, but… Grant sees John Garrett's ghost all the time. He talks to him and listens to his advice and everything."

Black Widow's eyes latched onto her with frightening speed. "What?"

"It started after Grant's suicide attempt," she said, the guilt clawing her heart, but she continued on. "He was so desperate and lonely that… he created Garrett's ghost to keep him company. I've thought about it a lot, and… Garrett was everything to Grant. He was Grant's survival, his father-figure, his lone companion for fifteen years. And when Garrett died so suddenly and unexpectedly, in Grant's perception, his entire world shattered, and he feels so guilty that he failed his father-figure that he… created a ghost of Garrett based on his memory of him. And because Garrett keeps talking to him all the time, I have to… to fight that influence. It's a battle of wills - mine versus Grant's memory of Garrett."

"You are winning," Black Widow congratulated.

Skye stood taller. "I try, and it's so hard. So hard. But I think you're winning, too. I mean, if The Soldier is anything like Garrett, he wouldn't accept so-called weakness, which means me and you - the ones who distract Grant and… Bucky- "

"James," she corrected.

"The ones who distract Grant and James from their mission, from what they 'need' to do. I mean, Grant hasn't killed me or even hurt me physically despite Garrett telling him to do so. You're still breathing despite The Soldier probably saying the same thing."

Black Widow's lips curled. "I really like you, Skye. If you ever need to know how to handle a Super-Soldier, give me a call. I'll reveal all my secrets - or almost all."

Skye's heart raced, and she swallowed. "That'd be great."

"But just think about something," Black Widow added, eyes solemn. "James created The Soldier to save himself, to survive. Grant clearly created Garrett for the same reasons - to save himself, to survive." It was suddenly hard to breathe, and she stared at Black Widow with wide eyes. "Right now, Garrett isn't a second personality, an entity that can seize control of Grant's body and act independently to become the dominant personality. Right now, Garrett is a manifestation of Grant's guilt for his failure in saving the man who, in his perception, was his father. The Soldier is a second personality, always has been, borne solely because of James's need to survive. Father and son are very similar, Skye. They are both receptive to mental and psychic trauma that manifests itself in brutal, harsh personalities and ghosts that torment them but also help them more than any of us can understand."

Skye swallowed. "What are you saying?"

"Make sure that Grant's memory of Garrett does not become its own entity like The Soldier is for James. They are different now, but they may not always be. Father and son are very similar. Right now, Garrett's ghost isn't permanent and can be eliminated, but to eliminate The Solder is to eliminate James; they are forever linked, twins not of body but mind. They are forever part of each other."

"Does James see The Soldier? Because Grant sees Garrett."

"No, The Soldier is his own entity, embedded in James's psyche, a second personality that endures forever as long as James himself does with his own ambitions and beliefs that are intimately connected to James's. Garrett sounds like an image projected by Grant to keep him company, understand him, and to soothe his feelings of guilt and failure. Right now, Garrett's image can be erased, but that may not always be the case. Maybe The Soldier once started in the same way, as a mental image projected to keep James company during unholy torture and agony, but now, The Soldier's evolved; his actual thoughts can't be erased like Garrett's image can be."

"I never thought of that," she whispered, dazed.

"We both love men who can never give themselves fully to us," Black Widow murmured. "While I'm thankful for The Soldier, consider him a blessing for James, he will never not be in the picture. It is not just James I love, it is The Soldier, too, for I cannot hate any part of James, no matter how much I want to sometimes. But I can't. Because The Soldier is how James survived, how we found each other, and I'm grateful for him. Are you grateful for Garrett?"

Skye froze, memories bursting in her skull, assaulting her eyes. "Garrett's why I met Grant," she said softly, finding it hard to remain standing. "That monster's why he was put on the team. Garrett manipulated everything." She stared at Black Widow, stunned. "He had me shot, but yet… I'm thankful for him because… he saved Grant from being stuck in Hydra. Even though he was the biggest monster I've ever met - and that's saying something with Whitehall and my own father - but I guess good came out of his evil. I met Grant because of him."

"It's very complicated, isn't it?" Black Widow observed sympathetically.

She nodded in a daze. "Very. But what did you mean a minute ago? Something about how Grant can't ever give himself fully- "

"Grant projects the manifestation of his memory of Garrett into existence," Black Widow said quietly but the look in her eyes was anything but quiet. "That means, somewhere, deep inside, deep in his mind, Grant thinks the same things that Garrett's ghost is telling him just as James, deep inside, thinks the same things as The Soldier."

"So, Grant wants to kill me?" she asked, feeling sick.

"I'm not sure. Personally, I think both James and Grant disassociate certain instincts that were ingrained into them by allocating them to The Soldier and Garrett. But Garrett has the potential to become like The Soldier. Each day he endures, he gains more and more power. You must convince Grant that Garrett poses a danger to, not only him, but others. If Garrett's ghost becomes a second personality like The Soldier, Grant would not have the control and restraint that James possesses. Garrett would use Grant's body to kill everyone, eliminating all weaknesses. He would be in control of all the power of a pyrokinetic Super-Soldier."

Horrified silence.

Skye wondered if she was too far in over her head, but she realized, with small irony, that she didn't care if she was. She had helped him since he had escaped from S.H.I.E.L.D., and she planned to continue helping him - because he had helped her and clearly continued to help her.

Already, improvements had been made. He had admitted that Garrett's ghost wasn't healthy and that Garrett had been pulling strings in his life, controlling him. He revealed that Garrett wasn't the true center of his world; it had been Tommy, his twin brother. Garrett had been a replacement figure for Tommy.

Skye really tried to ignore how she was a replacement figure for Garrett. But wait! Garrett had entered Grant's life a couple of years after Tommy had been murdered by the Senator! She had entered Grant's life while Garrett was still in Grant's life. She couldn't be a replacement figure because she wasn't filling the void left by Garrett, for Garrett hadn't left a void when Grant fell in love with her, and she him! And since Grant still saw Garrett's ghost, he filled the void with Garrett's memory, not Skye herself. Skye didn't replace Garrett; she was competing against his memory.

She felt like she could breathe easier, and she felt certain that Garrett's ghost wouldn't evolve to become like The Soldier was to James, despite the similarities between father and son. While Grant really did love Garrett, and Garrett had had hold of him for fifteen - fifteen! - years, she felt hope.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Grant stared at his father and Wanda and Pietro. "Thanks for the help," he said. "We wouldn't have gotten out of here without you."

Wanda stared back, eyes knowing. "You're putting off the inevitable."

"What did I say about reading my mind?"

"Show her! Think of all the ways you can kill her!"

"You lied."

"Your posture tells me you're lying."

"What about mine?" Pietro demanded.

"That you're nervous."

Pietro's eyes widened before he glanced at his sister. "He's lying."

Wanda shrugged. "No, he's not."

"I'm your twin," Pietro said passionately, and Grant stared, remembering Tommy. "You're supposed to be on my side."

"I thought I'd switch it up."

"But that's- "

"You are doubting your decision, Grant," Wanda said, eyes slightly red. "You're not sure you can trust S.H.I.E.L.D., despite Skye's influence."

"Wouldn't you doubt that decision?" he asked, not even mustering the energy to feel furious that she was looking into his mind.

John shook his head in disappointment. "I didn't raise a lazy, no-good dumbass! Stop being lazy and burn her alive!"

Wanda nodded, and if she did, in fact, see and hear John, as well, she did a remarkable job of not indicating it. "Absolutely. Their actions to you are much louder than their newly-found words."

"Seems to be a common theme," Grant muttered. "What were they thinking? Is Coulson sincere?"

"You already know he is."

"But the others?"

"Agent May feels humiliated by Natasha and Steve's condemnation," Wanda said slowly, brows furrowed. Grant had heard some of what they had said to defend him, and he had felt touched and relieved that Skye wasn't the only one who was on his side. "Some of what they said registered in her, but she's full of bitterness and resentment - a deadly combination. Her rage distorts her reason."

"That's all the reason you need!" John encouraged. "Kill that ice-cold bitch! She wasn't even good in the sack!"

"Pathetic," his father judged, bearded face twisting with disgust.

Pietro nodded. "It is. Maybe I could knock some sense into her if I ran fast enough."

"Don't count on it," Wanda countered. "I don't think she'll attack you if you go back with them, Grant, if that's what you're asking."

"You should know what I'm asking."

"I'm trying to be polite."

Grant chuckled. "You've already looked into my mind. Being polite's gone out the window. But what about Tripp, Morse, and Hunter?"

"They all believe you, and they would accept you if you went with them. For some reason I can't fathom- "

"Liar."

Wanda sighed. "It's an expression."

"A misleading one."

"No, I really can't fathom why Agent Hunter thinks you're cool. You're a huge asshole."

Grant shrugged. "If it's any consolation, Hunter agrees with you. And more importantly, so does Skye."

"But she's not here to rein you in."

John chuckled. "No wonder you haven't killed her. She's got that spunk like your girl."

Wanda smiled, confirming that she could hear and see John, too. "A very charming ghost you have there."

"One of his best qualities," Grant replied with a casualness he didn't feel.

Before Wanda could respond, his father cut in, "Go join the others," he ordered, glancing at Wanda and Pietro. "Grant and I… must talk."

"It was and wasn't nice knowing you, Grant," Pietro said somewhat sympathetically.

Wanda rolled her eyes. "They're not going to kill each other or anything."

"I thought you weren't going to look into Barnes's head."

"Seriously, thank you," Grant cut in, staring at Wanda. "Thank you for what you did. Without you, I doubt I'd be here."

"You have a persuasive father," Wanda said with a smile as she and Pietro exited.

Grant was left alone with his father, and this time, there was no violence to distract them.

"It was thrilling to slaughter Hydra with you," his father said, eyes holding his. "I would like to continue our slaughter together."

John nodded eagerly. "Yes! Do it! Since you pussied out of killing Phil and S.H.I.E.L.D., make it up to me by teaming up with your old man! You can learn a thing or two from him - or a lot."

Grant glanced around at all the carnage. "I think you can more than handle it."

"Yet I'm asking."

"Or do you mean ordering?" Grant asked. "You're not going to order me around. Just because you're my father, just because we share blood, doesn't mean you can decide my life and who I am."

His father shook his head mechanically. "You misunderstand. You are in my custody, but I'm giving you a choice. You can choose to come with me, Natalia, Steve, Wilson, Wanda, and Pietro to hunt down the rest of Hydra and exterminate them, or you can choose to return to those who imprisoned and tortured you."

"Very subtle," he drawled.

"He's not trying to fool you, son. He never needs to fool anyone. He slaughters and kills better than anyone in history."

His father's face flashed with amusement. "Very subtle."

Grant frowned. "What?"

"You think you are subtle while listening to your ghost, but to those who know what to look for, it's clear."

Surprise flashed through him, but he remained calm. "Because you have… The Soldier," he said slowly.

"Yes."

Grant considered his father. "I don't know what to do. I should go with you, I recognize that, but part of me wants to go back. I'd like to see Fitz. I'd like… to make amends."

"The engineer," his father observed. "While stuttering, he spoke highly of you."

Shame curled around his heart. "I broke him."

"You taught him the strength of his spirit - a priceless gift. Without you, he would be dead. They all would be." His father's eyes flashed like lightning. It was terrifying and amazing. "Something Agent Simmons fails to realize."

Grant could imagine that conversation. "She hates me, but… I'd like to see her again, too. I don't know why, but I want to."

John rolled his eyes. "Really? You know what this is, son. It's your fuckin' heart! That pathetic thing always clouds your reason."

"You spared all of them for a reason," his father observed. "Whether that reason still exists you must discern. However, I applaud your restraint in not killing them. It took much of my control not to surrender their fates to The Soldier. They are very grating."

He nodded without speaking, stared at his father, the superior combatant, the more dangerous predator. The bionic arm gleamed with a mixture of dried and dripping blood, and his eyes were dark and calculating.

"Why did you come here?" he asked, feeling the flames crackle beneath his flesh, demanding to be unleashed. "Why did you save me? Why did you ally with S.H.I.E.L.D.? I know it was to destroy Hydra, but there's more to it."

His father remained quiet for several moments. "You were in my file, a son whom I had no idea existed."

"The file should give you the answers you seek."

"I didn't come for answers," his father responded, emotions entering his tone, but Grant couldn't decipher them. "You are a man. I never saw you as a child. Never saw you age." His father's fists clenched, and Grant stared, mesmerized, as the blood-soaked bionic limb whirred chaotically, ominously. "More things they took from me."

"You didn't answer my question."

"I came to judge you," his father said flatly. "To see if Hydra had created a monster of my blood that must be eliminated."

The words floated in the air, and John looked at him expectantly. "Well, are you gonna burn his face off or not?"

"You don't get to do that," Grant snarled. "You don't get to make that judgment. I don't give a fuck if you're my father or not. John was more of a father to me than you ever were. Where the fuck were you when I was being experimented on as a child? Being tortured and put through agonizing tests? Where were you when my twin, your son, was murdered by your other son? You don't get to judge anything except your own incompetence. Go fuck yourself."

His father's eyes burst with chaos. "Only my son would speak so freely in front of The Soldier. Not even Natalia would."

Grant's hands crackled with flames, illuminating their faces more vividly. He tried to ensure that his flames didn't incinerate his clothes again. "I know a thing or two about threats. I'm not impressed."

"The Soldier demands repentance and homage."

A sneering smile crossed his face. "I already gave you the only homage The Soldier will ever get from me - go fuck yourself. Go ahead, let him come out and play. Believe me, you're not the only monster." John applauded loudly, encouraging him, and the flames brightened. "If you want a fight, I'm ready. I'm itching for it. Because I'm not going to be pushed around by you like everyone else is."

"Atta boy, son!" John cheered.

His father's eyes flashed. "You would lose."

"I don't think so." Grant leaned closer, voice a deadly hiss. "My body's superior to yours. Not to mention my flames. And make no mistake, I'm no longer weak like I was earlier- "

"From the Super-Soldier repressor shots."

He reeled back in surprise. "You know about those?"

"They were tested on me long ago. It was not prudent to speak of such a dangerous tool when in the presence of S.H.I.E.L.D."

To his annoyance, he felt some of his fury at his father diminish. "No, it wasn't," he agreed.

Silence.

"Condemnations aside, I would like to know you, Grant," his father finally said, holding his gaze with identical eyes. "I would like nothing more than for you to come with me and slaughter Hydra to extinction."

"A tempting offer," he admitted.

"I promise you vengeance against Hydra," his father swore. "We will destroy them together. Burn everything they've built to ashes. Malick is still out there, and contingencies were undoubtedly created for when Whitehall failed. Now join me in vengeance if that is your desire."

Grant shook his head. "I don't give a shit about Hydra. I'm not concerned that they'll survive. I have no doubt that you'll feast on them until there's nothing left but the memory of it."

His father nodded approvingly at his words. "But you still feel vengeance for those who imprisoned and tortured you."

John threw his hands in the air. "See? He gets it, son! Take your vengeance! Avenge me! Slaughter Phil and those do-gooders in S.H.I.E.L.D.!"

Grant paused, thinking of Coulson and May; he thought of Skye's father, who died for his vengeance. "Is revenge worth it? Is it worth the danger, the pain, suffering, death? All of it, is it worth it?"

His father stared at him. "For me. But only you can make that decision, and you must think carefully on your choice. If you choose to fight, choose to wage a vengeful war, it will forever be part of you. You will never be able to rest until it is completed. And once it is completed, you will be lost."

"Quite the prophecy."

"Quite the inevitable," his father corrected. "I've always known this, and so has The Soldier. We accept the risks, for we must destroy Hydra as they destroyed us." His father's head tilted slightly, an indication of consideration. "But you are not me despite our similarities. You must keep your woman in mind. I see how you look at her, and she you."

"And you see everything, don't you?"

"We both do. It's who we are. We're predators. No one is more superior, for our supremacy is inevitable. It's what we were created for."

"I've heard this history lesson before," Grant drawled.

"I see the way you look at your woman. You must decide if she is more important than your vengeance."

"And you and Romanoff? Is she more important than your vengeance?"

"Natalia wants to aid me in my quest for vengeance, but your woman will never aid you; she is fond of those you hate. You must decide. Commit to a decision."

"You heard him, son! Choose the right side - me! Avenge me like you promised!"

Grant thought of Skye and the peace he felt when with her, and his decision was made. "I don't want to always wage war. I've been fighting for so long, and I'd like peace. Skye's my peace."

His father nodded. "I understand. Natalia is my peace, but she was taken from me. Make sure S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't take your Skye from you. S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra are the same. Be wary."

"I have unfinished business that needs finishing," he decided. "Maybe I'll catch up to you when I can, maybe I won't."

"There won't be any kills left."

Grant smirked. "Then congratulations."

"Does your ghost agree?" his father asked curiously.

"I sure as hell do! Now you get to go back and slaughter all those motherfuckers!"

Grant sighed. "Not for the right reason."

His father's eyes grew heavy with shadows. "You have an opportunity I do not, an opportunity that I never want. You have the chance to get rid of your ghost. Your woman doesn't accept it like Natalia does The Soldier. You must choose - will you be married to your woman or your ghost?"

He stared at his father, ignoring the fear that permeated through his heart. "Marriage?" he asked. First Skye's father and now his own father. "Did she say something?"

"I see how you look at her, and more importantly, I see how she looks at you. The Soldier is useful. I value him. I'm thankful for him. He's why I'm alive. Can you say the same for your ghost?"

"Fuck you," he snapped, rage and something he didn't want to identify warring at him. "You don't get it."

His father was calm. "Yes, I do. To eliminate your ghost would be like ripping off your arm."

"That's very self-aware," he mocked, blatantly glancing at the bionic arm. "But no, you don't get it. You get it easy. You don't have to do that. Romanoff accepts The Soldier, but... Skye doesn't accept John," he admitted, feeling the envy and hopelessness gnaw at his heart. "She hates John. But she shouldn't. John's the reason I'm still here. The only reason she ever met me was because of John."

"You owe your life to him," his father acknowledged, those eyes that were identical to his supreme. "But is he stopping you now from living the life you desire?"

"What about The Soldier?" he challenged, defensive.

His father's eyes crinkled with amusement. "It doesn't matter for me because Natalia is grateful for The Soldier; she accepts him even when she fears and loathes his presence. You must commit to a decision that I will never need to make. Your woman is important to you, but is your ghost more important than her?"

Grant's breathing elevated, and he couldn't hear John or see him right now. "Skye knows the truth."

"Which is what?" He found that he couldn't answer, and his father nodded not unkindly. "Your woman will not wait forever, Grant. I was blessed with Natalia, for she accepts The Soldier- "

"Why can't she accept John?" he whispered, something resembling heartbreak tormenting him. "He did everything for me. He raised me. He was my friend. He was my father when you weren't. He was there for me when no one else was."

"And your woman?" his father asked, unaffected by the accusation. "Was she there for you when no one else was?"

Grant stared, wide-eyed. "She was," he breathed out, finally registering what he had known for so long. "John was dead. I had no one but... the ghost, but she never knew that until later. But she finally calmed down and talked to me. She wanted to know the truth, and I told her. And she accepts that. But she won't accept John. I wish she would. But you have The Soldier. It's the same."

His father shook his head slowly like a death knell. "No. Your ghost is there for your comfort, but The Soldier is my protection, my survival. You see an image of your ghost, but The Soldier is so much more than a ghost; he's stronger than that."

"You gonna let him insult me like that, son?" John suddenly demanded, peering at him with knowing, familiar eyes.

"You must decide what is more important - your woman or your ghost. Which matters more to you?"

Grant wavered on his feet, the truth glaring and as bright as the flames in his soul, but he couldn't admit it. "I don't know," he lied.

His father stared at him knowingly. "You already admitted it, Grant. You said your Skye is your peace. Your decision to return to S.H.I.E.L.D. attests to it."

"We're done talking about this," Grant snapped, turning around. "If you say another word about it to me or to anyone, we'll find out if that metal arm is fire-proof."

John rubbed his hands together with a huge grin. "Now you're going back into the lion's den, son! But they invited back the biggest, strongest, and toughest lion! You'll rip 'em apart and eat 'em raw!"

Grant said nothing.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Simmons paced in Vault D, so furious her vision wavered, and she wanted to hit something, to scratch and claw and bite because it had happened again! They had been betrayed by someone in their midst! It was like Ward all over again - that psychopath!

"How did we let this happen again?" she ranted to Fitz, who sat silently on the cot, looking at nothing. "How did Mack fool us? He's nowhere near as brilliant an actor as him, but yet we were fooled! When Director Coulson returns, May will rip him apart as she did him. We cannot allow this treachery to continue! It sets a terrible precedent - and it all started because of him."

"We made… decisions, too, Jemma," Fitz said slowly, and she hated it. She hated that his once-brilliant mind had been broken by Ward. It was all because of him! "We can't… blame Ward fo- for everything."

She shook her head, knowing that he wasn't thinking clearly. "Ward dropped us into the bottom of the ocean, Fitz."

"It was… our decision to… go in there. If we hadn't, Ward… wouldn't have… killed us."

Simmons stared at him uncomprehendingly. "That's not- "

"If he put… a gun to our heads… he wouldn't have… pulled th- the trigger."

Her lips thinned in displeasure. "I don't know why you believe that. It makes no sense. Do you forget what he did to us?"

"It was terrifying," Fitz replied, words spaced but contemplative. "It was… more terrifying for me than you. I knew… I wouldn't have oxygen. I had to… had to accept that… in a short time. I had to… accept th- the… the… possibility of dying. You… didn't have to do that."

Memories of that terrible time, the worst of her life, tormented her, and Simmons tried to control her emotions, tried to keep herself from crying. "But he put you in that position! He put us in there!"

"You… you hate Ward, but… you didn't… get the worst part. I should… hate him more than… anyone except Skye… but I don't. And Skye… doesn't hate him, either."

"You didn't see the fruits of his labors, Fitz," she responded. "You didn't see you. I had to. I had to deal with the fallout, not you, and not him."

Fitz's eyes latched onto her, and it was so unnerving, so unlike the Fitz she desperately wanted back. "You didn't deal… with the fallout."

Simmons stiffened in outrage. "Fitz, I know your memory isn't- "

"You left," Fitz hissed out, emotions raging through his eyes. Simmons was left speechless, for it was the first time since before Ward's evil that Fitz seemed like the Fitz she wanted. "You went into… into Hydra. You left me."

She swallowed. "Director Coulson asked me to- "

A bitter laugh silenced her, and Fitz's smile was so wrong, so unnatural on his beautiful face. "Don't… don't do that."

"We needed critical intel, and I was the most equipped person to attain that intelligence."

"You ke- keep lying to me."

"You're not thinking clearly, Fitz. Because of him."

Instead of accepting her truthful observation as she expected, Fitz's eyes narrowed in bitterness. "I've done… nothing bu- but think, Jemma. Ward was… our friend. Our friend."

"And he betrayed us all for John Garrett and Hydra and nearly killed us!"

Fitz stared at her, and it was so wrong! He should be raging and cursing like she was! "We're alive… because he was… our friend."

Simmons blinked, astonished, disbelief and hurt coursing through her. "Fitz, I know you loved Ward - we all did - but he betrayed us. He tried to kill us!"

"Then… why don't we… have scars?" Fitz asked, eyes roaming her body. "You have… no scars."

"But you do!" she snapped. "I was there. I remember. You're not the same - because of him. It's all his fault!"

Fitz's head tilted to the side. "Do you think… you know… better than me? Do you think you… know my pain better… than me?"

Simmons froze, knowing she had to tread carefully. "Fitz, you're not the same," she said gently. "You know this. You can't think as you used to."

"I'm not… some broken child," Fitz said, anger fusing in his voice. "I make… my decisions. It was my decision… to- to give you… the oxygen. It was… our decision to go… into the pod. It was our… our decision to spy on… Garrett and Ward."

"And it was Ward's decision to drop us into the ocean!"

"And he takes re- re- responsibility for it," Fitz countered, and Simmons couldn't understand why he was on Ward's side. He should be on her side! "It was… because of our… prior decisions." Fitz looked away from her, and she was thankful, unable to stand the look in his eyes, the foreign look that was so unlike the true Fitz. "Everything is… a series of choices, Jemma. These… choices affect other choices and… directly influence them. We tried… to kill Garrett. We… made that choice."

Silence.

Fitz's eyes were poised, enlightened, clear. It couldn't be true! He was wrong! He couldn't think clearly! "If Ward… was so loyal… to Garrett… if he loved him… so much… knew him for half… his life, why didn't he… kill us after the… E.M.P. in a… rage? Why didn't he… kill us… when he saw us? Why… didn't he… stop us from… going into the pod? Why did he… allow us to go… into the pod?"

"Because- "

"We were hi- his friends," Fitz finished, eyes triumphant. "We're… alive because he didn't… want us dead."

She blinked rapidly, unable to believe what he was saying. "You've forgiven him? Fitz, how could you?"

"Physical wounds can… can be forgiven. Emotional wounds are… harder to forgive. I've forgiven Ward. I haven't… forgiven… you."

Tears sprung in her eyes, disbelief and horror and deadly rage coalescing inside her. It was all Ward's fault! That monstrous, murdering psychopath! "How can you say that?" she demanded, choked with tears. "I've done everything I can to- "

"Ward loved… Garrett. He was his… father-figure for… half his life. Why wouldn't he cho- choose Garrett? He chose… love." Fitz stared at her hard, holding her gaze with ire-filled eyes. It was so, so wrong! "If it were me and… an- and my father, I would… do the same."

"That's disingenuous," she snapped. "You don't correlate to Ward, you never have! You're not a monster like he is, Fitz."

"You… abandoned me," Fitz said, and the look in his eyes registered as a death knell in Simmons's heart. "Ward betrayed… us for… love. I- I understand that. You… betrayed me for… Hydra."

Simmon's eyes bulged out of their sockets, and her heart raced so quickly she had to move her body. She sprung to her feet and began pacing, trying to block out Fitz's lying, hurtful, malicious words. "No, no, Fitz," she corrected, hysteria in her voice. "I went into Hydra to help us, to help S.H.I.E.L.D."

Fitz's eyes stayed locked onto her. "But… not to help… me."

"Where is this coming from?" Simmons demanded. "I thought you would be better without me. And you did finally get better without me!"

"You thought you… could be… free of me," Fitz said without emotion. "I… was a burden… you didn't want."

"That's not true," she denied. "You're lying. Stop it. Stop it!"

"As you… stopped helping me?"

She couldn't stop the tears from spilling down her cheeks. "You're not Fitz," she accused, breathing faltering. "You're not him. You just wear his face."

Fitz didn't even react. "And… you're not Jemma," he condemned, eyes dark and roiling. "You're not her. You pretend… and wear her face."

Simmons gasped and squeezed her eyes shut. When did everything between them become so wrong?

The answer was clear - Ward!

XxXxXxXxXxX

Well, that's all for this monster chapter, everyone! It turned out to be a lot bigger than I planned, but I'm satisfied. I hope that you enjoyed it, and please leave a review to tell me what you thought. It would really help me out.

A LOT happened in this chapter:

**Mack lets Gonzales and the crew of the "true" S.H.I.E.L.D. into the Playground after talking with Simmons! Simmons reacts as expected, but Fitz condemns Mack and talks a little about Ward, for the similarities between the two situations are definitely there. And yes, Gonzales is a prick.

**The fight against Hydra erupts, and S.H.I.E.L.D. wins a pyrrhic victory! Grant meets up with the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D. and his father, which goes about how you expect. Also, Coulson is free from the madness of the GH-325. I know that Coulson's sudden reason and sanity are very abrupt, but that's intentional, for his previous decisions and ability to reason are so alien and so blatantly wrong that a drastic, sudden difference is necessary. (Plus, it's a way of showing that the show could have easily gone that route, but of course, that's not what happened.) Basically, when the Temple was activated, the "beacon" in Coulson's mind vanished, having achieved its "purpose" even though Coulson wasn't actually the one to activate the Temple.

Grant doesn't kill Coulson and struggles with it. Honestly, I know this kind of turned into a S.H.I.E.L.D.-bashing fest, but to be blunt, they deserved it. Their righteous hypocrisy and irrationality were so fucking grating on the show. If I went a little overboard, then I'm just copying S.H.I.E.L.D.'s approach.

**Skye has awakened thanks to Raina's urging and prophecies! I'll admit that I seriously contemplated Skye rejecting her gift despite all of Raina's urgings and prophecies. Originally, I thought about having Skye get her gift later on, but the more I thought about that approach, the less I approved of it. Her getting her gift now is the most sensible approach, and plus, it's a nice, shared motif between her and Grant - (re)gaining the gift that had been "stolen" from them.

**Grant is shot, and as a result, is nearly dying, which leads to him getting his flames back due to Wanda's intervention! I felt that the cliche of him personally awakening his flames at the sight of either Skye in danger or him being near Death was too overdone. Instead, I thought Grant actually going into his psyche and subconscious through someone else's power was the best, for it proves that Grant can't do everything alone. He's not perfect, and he can't save himself alone. He needs others, highlighted in Skye's presence in his life, and Wanda's intervention to save his life - even though she had no idea if it would work. Him confronting the greatest ghost of his past - not Garrett, but Tommy, his twin brother whom he loved more than anyone and failed more severely than he ever failed Garrett - and manually doing the work to regain his true self, regaining that precious thing he lost when he was a child is the best approach. Whether I did that correctly or not, I guess that's up to you all.

**Skye's father finally kills Whitehall, but it costs him his life! I thought him dying was the best, to be honest. He finally gains the peace he yearns for, and since he thinks Jiaying's dead (she's actually not, but that will come later), he gets even more peace because he thinks he'll see her soon. I also thought it would give Skye a different perspective. With her father alive, she'd see him in the flesh, thus thinking about the monster that he is, blinded by what she has seen of him. But death can offer enlightenment. With him dead, she could think about him in a different way, regretting that she knew him so little and that things had turned out the way they did. At least that's my interpretation of it.

I also thought it was an excellent illustration for Grant - and perhaps James, too - that vengeance can easily lead to their deaths, and since survival is so ingrained into their DNA, that should give them cause to pause. While James clearly decides the risk is worth it, Grant realizes something he's probably known all along - revenge may not be worth it. It may bring him nothing but death, something intolerable to a survivalist like him.

**Skye and Romanoff talk! Big thanks to Sreya, who analyzed the similarities between Grant and Barnes to a level I hadn't, so thanks! Because of the similarities between father and son, their susceptibility to "ghosts" and second personalities needed for their ability to survive, the fear that Romanoff expresses, and that Skye briefly feels, is that Grant's projection of Garrett will evolve into a second personality like The Soldier is for James.

**Grant and his father finally talk! James offers him vengeance, forcing Grant to really, for the first time, realize what he wants. Does he want to follow in his father's footsteps and commit himself to the path of vengeance, or does he want peace instead? Does he want an endless war, or would he like to stop fighting and live instead? The fact he chooses to go back with S.H.I.E.L.D. with Skye reveals the answer to be the latter, but he refuses to admit it. He's not ready to let go of Garrett's memory, not yet.

**FitzSimmons talk while stuck in Vault D! I really, really hated how Simmons went into Hydra in Season 2. It was idiotic and made no sense, and seemed to only be written for shock value. "Oh, no! Simmons is in Hydra! She's going to be killed! Wow! S.H.I.E.L.D. and Coulson are really desperate! Will Simmons be compromised? What if Whitehall finds out?" I know some people really liked it, but I thought it was ridiculous, but to each their own.

Personally, what makes A LOT more sense to me is that Simmons was running away from Fitz because she couldn't fix him or heal him, so she felt useless. She went into Hydra to feel useful, to feel like she was actually doing something meaningful that was full of purpose. With Fitz, she got none of that. I'm actually okay with that, for it's very realistic and makes sense, only in that she needs to get away from Fitz and the trauma his "new" state represents. What's not realistic or sensible is her being able to fool Whitehall and company. What a bunch of bullshit writing. And what I'm not okay with is the fact that NOBODY calls her out on it, especially Fitz. When he needed her the most, she got the hell out of dodge and went into the enemy's camp. If anyone does call her out on it, it's not to the level that they needed to.

Really, Simmons betrayed Fitz worse than Grant ever did, which Fitz points out to Simmons in this. Realistically, because Fitz has been changed, he thinks A LOT; he's thought about the events a lot more than anyone else has because all he can do is think. He can't speak properly, so he thinks instead, keeping everything bottled up as he tries to process stimuli and memories and the conclusions he draws from them. He recognizes that Grant chose love over the Team. He loved Garrett more than anyone, so it's completely sensible and rational that he'd choose Garrett over them. Fitz has come to realize this. So, he's forgiven Ward for his betrayal and for what happened in the medical pod (clearly the fact that it was designed to float was just brushed aside in favor of forcing Ward to have to "work" harder to get himself back in the Team's good graces - or, dare I say, push him onto the path of villainy. If the pod had actually floated as it was supposed to, I'm convinced that nobody would have had as big a problem with his actions). However, Simmons, in no way, chose love when she betrayed Fitz. To be blunt, she chose the coward's way, which is understandable, but what's not understandable is that Fitz never called her out on it. So, I'm changing that.

I think that's everything for this monster chapter. If you have questions, feel free to ask. It would really help me out if you guys left a review; it lets me know what's working and what isn't. I appreciate it!

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