Not like anyone was on pins and needles for a continuation of this, but here it is anyways.
Catching up to a changed take on season five. Perhaps…
Thanks if you're here and reading.
...
...
"It's alright, kid. You go. I'll be fine."
Grant smiles at Lincoln, a soft, cajoling expression, because he knows it's what the kid needs, what they all need.
Coulson has proclaimed Lincoln fit to rejoin the outside world, but the SHIELD director still doesn't trust this new and reformed version of Grant Ward enough to grant him the same freedom. Which, while annoying, is admittedly understandable. If the roles were reversed, Grant wouldn't let himself out of the confinement chamber yet, either.
He's just glad that Lincoln is free to go, because the guy needs it so much. Needs to be with Skye - Daisy, needs to not be locked up anymore. Despite everything, he is simply not as jaded as Ward, and that's where his weakness (no, his strength) lies. He's not as hardened, as used to the utter and complete hopelessness of the world, and staying locked up would have probably broken him eventually.
No, strangely, Ward can honestly say that he's glad the kid can go now.
That is, if he doesn't mess it up for himself now.
Still standing by the door to their shared confinement chamber, Lincoln's hands crackle slightly, while Daisy beckons to him, pleading for him to just let it go. And here he is, Grant Ward, agreeing with her, making her shoot him a confused, wary glance.
"She's right, kid. You need to look out for yourself now. You know me, I'll be fine. Cockroach, remember?"
Lincoln shakes his head. "They can't keep you locked up in here forever. - Coulson," he hollers over at the director, an upset look on his face that the man answers with a grim if somewhat sad, almost remorseful expression. "He's not Hive anymore. He's not even the same man you knew him as. I told you that if it weren't for him, I'd be dead. He's… changed, dammit. Let him out."
Ward rolls his eyes for Skye's benefit, who is looking at him briefly from over Lincoln's shoulder.
"A bit melodramatic," he casually informs her, nodding at the kid. "Can't blame him after what we went through… - Please, Skye." He looks down, chuckles, rubbing his neck, then stares back up at her again, correcting himself. (Will he ever get this right?) "Please just take him with you, Daisy, keep an eye on him. He needs you."
She glares at him and he can tell that she might not like it, but she grudgingly believes he is being sincere with his worry about Lincoln Campbell.
Because he is.
"I promise we will treat him fairly," Coulson says, smiling at Lincoln, then shooting Ward a strange glance, then nodding at him, a gesture Grant returns. If nothing else, Coulson has always kept his word. He is the kind of honest man that Grant had once aspired to be.
Before everything had gone to shit.
It remains to be seen whether he can persuade SHIELD, Coulson, Daisy, Fitz, and Simmons that he is indeed a changed, a better man these days.
"Come on, kid. You can come visit, okay? Actually, you'll have to promise you will. But I don't want to see you here another minute now. Go! This is what you came back for, remember? For… Daisy. Heck, even for SHIELD. So go."
His tone, insistent, finally seems to get through to the younger man, who turns around reluctantly, suddenly giving Ward an unexpected hug, surprising not only him, but also the onlooking others.
Grant gasps softly, but quickly catches himself to reciprocate the embrace, his arms clutching at Lincoln, his heart jumping a little at the human contact, the kindness displayed.
Oh gosh, he really cares for this kid now, doesn't he? He truly feels like a brother, and Grant knows that is his weakness, but it doesn't even matter any more.
Grant Ward has a heart, and there is still room for love in there. Who would have thought?
"Go," he breathes one last time, then pats Lincoln on the back encouragingly before finally letting go, smiling at him. "I promise I won't go anywhere."
And suddenly they both chuckle, before the kid eventually exits the cubicle, Daisy's hand in his now as they both walk away, the door closing after them, leaving Ward behind.
He inhales deeply, cherishing the air in his lungs for a moment before letting it out. Another minute, and he and Coulson are completely alone. The older man is looking through the window at him, scrutinizing him.
Ward grimaces, then grins. "Look out for the kid, Coulson, will you?"
The other's expression turns into a frown, eyes widening slightly. "You really do care about him, don't you?" he realizes, then continues, almost to himself. "I'll be damned. I think I can actually see it now. You have changed…"
Ward grins.
…
They walk down the long hallway, very slowly, because Lincoln clearly can't walk well yet, even though he has spent two full weeks in quarantine, and Jemma has done her best to attend to his injuries because he wouldn't let any other doctor near him.
Daisy shoots him a cautious glance, a smile that he returns, and she leans in a little more, very softly holding onto his arm.
"Your room is right next to mine," she explains conversationally as they walk, "I mean, if you want you can room in with me, I just wasn't sure… after all this time…" She is faltering, unsure of how best to say it. She is worried about him. Worried about what toll his months of torture and isolation could have taken on him. She is honestly surprised he is still functioning, surprised he can even handle her touching him, surprised he tolerates anyone's close proximity. He's not good with that, though, that much she has learned.
He flips out immediately if there's a stranger coming too close. The other members of the team, other than Daisy, other than Jemma, (and, well, other than Ward…) have to keep a considerable distance, at least a few feet, or he gets agitated, lets his electric current crackle involuntarily.
There's a storm brewing inside of him, barely kept at bay, and Daisy wishes she could be there for him more, could soothe him, hold him, but she isn't sure how much intimacy he can handle so she has seen to it that he has his own room, where he can be alone if he needs to be.
They stop in front of his door right then, and she smiles at him uncertainly, unable to contain the urge to gently stroke the side of his face. He doesn't flinch, doesn't balk, just smiles back at her with a heavy sigh before a sudden sadness seems to wash over his features.
"I'm sure you've continued your life, Daisy, and I… I understand if you've… moved on, but I…"
She frowns. "Moved on? I didn't move on," she whispers, but he is talking over her, as if he doesn't hear her.
"To me, the only thing that kept me sane up there is the thought of you. That you were safe and okay, and that maybe, one day, I'd get to see you again. I know I was never good enough for you or strong enough, or…"
"Lincoln, that's not true—"
"I was never what you needed, and I don't ask anything of you now. I'd just… I love you, still." He shrugs, looking pained. "And I'd really like to be friends."
Friends. She swallows. Part of her knows this for what it is, him giving her an out, and maybe she should take it. He is broken and will need time and care in a way she isn't sure she can give him. She is not a very caring type of person. She isn't soft and gentle, tender. She is a soldier, a fighter.
And she loves him.
So no, she is not going to take that out. Instead, she leans forward, her hand gently resting on his chest, feeling the slow rise and fall, the speeding up rhythm of his heart underneath as she looks up into his eyes before her lips graze his, very lightly, then more intimately as she kisses him.
After a minute or two, or maybe even more, she isn't all that sure, they part and she tilts her head, grinning at him sassily. "You're an idiot if you think I'd let you do that, Lincoln Campbell. I love you, and I won't let you go again."
Looking back at her a little sheepishly, a little self-consciously, he seems to contemplate. "I knew you were special when I first met you. But I already was a mess before then, and I'm even more of a mess now."
She chuckles softly. "You're right. You've met me. So you know I am a mess too. I think we complement each other well. Two messes make one… giant mess?" She rolls her eyes, laughing, then nudges him lightly as she finally takes the step forward to open his door. "Wow. Aren't we romantic? Getting right down to business." They both chuckle before she continues, holding out a hand. "Come on, let's get you settled in. And if you need anything, day or night, I'm right next door, okay?"
"You sure about this?"
His look tells her how relieved he is, and how afraid that she might still back out of this. She is not going to, of course. She is too happy he is back. Because, frankly, she didn't even know just how much she missed him, how much she truly loves him, until she saw him again the day he came back from the dead.
"I mean," she says, going for a light tone, for a joke to ease up some of the sudden tension, "your new bromance with Ward is a little weird still, but yes, I'm all in…"
She sees him grimace slightly, sees his eyes shutter and she gently rests her forehead against his. "You know I'm joking, right?"
"You're not." She looks up to see him smile. "But that's okay. I get it. It *is weird."
"It is, isn't it?"
They both grin, then laugh, before eventually walking into the room and shutting the door.
"I'm sorry if that makes things awkward, but I… he really is a friend now, I know that's hard to believe, but up there…"
He looks so pained that she lays a hand on his cheek, shaking her head, stopping him. She doesn't want him to go where he clearly can't go yet. And while his odd relationship with Ward kind of complicates things, she can't blame him for whatever feelings he has for the man now. After all, Ward is pretty dang charismatic, and she, too, still has the tiniest tiniest soft spot for him, even after everything.
"It's okay," she whispers, "I get it."
"Do you? Because I don't even quite get it myself…" He raises an eyebrow, grinning awkwardly, and she chuckles.
"He has that effect on people."
"Yeah, maybe… He has changed, though. He's… honestly been a good guy ever since Hive is gone."
"I'll take your word for it. Honestly, he has a way of getting into people's heads, but I know you're not stupid and I know that people can change so I'll just believe you and hope he deserves your trust."
He smiles in reply, but remains silent. When the quiet gets to her too much, she eventually offers, "I can stay, if you want… I mean…" His hands are slowly coming up her back, her neck, surprising her a little, making her hiss in a breath… "May wanted a sparring session but I could probably give her a rain check…"
"She won't like it."
"No…"
His lips are caressing her neck now, and she stops thinking for a moment, and just does. They both do. Because it's what they need. They need each other more than anything. Touches, kisses, no words, no thoughts, no darkness, no pain. Just one beautiful moment of bliss. Together.
…
He wakes up in a panic, breathing too fast, unsure of where he is and what he's doing here, before her features come into focus, her soft voice reaches him; her hands, her touch grounding him again.
"It's okay," she whispers, "you're okay. You're okay. No one's gonna hurt you anymore."
He wants to believe her so badly, he really does, but the panic is lingering and it takes him forever to get a grip on it.
"I'm sorry," he breathes eventually, as she holds him, "I'm sorry…"
But she shakes her head, tightens her grip on him and simply repeats, "It's okay. I'm right here," and he knows she understands. Still, the shaking doesn't stop, yet, the pain is still there, too. His arms are burning, and he feels so… awful. Vulnerable, lost, and he hates it so much, so so much.
"Would it help you if we went to see Ward?" she suddenly asks, her tone cautious, but strangely understanding, and he finally looks up a little, scoffing softly, wondering what she might really think and feel now. Pity? That he is a nutcase?
All he sees is compassion, however, and love, and he doesn't even think he deserves it, but he'll take it anyways, because he needs her so much, loves her so much and that's the only thing that makes this bearable.
"Come on, let's go," she cajoles, "I'm sure he'd like to see you." She smiles as he makes a face, running a hand over his hair as he tries to pull himself together. "Plus, I'll probably have to check in with May before she comes barging into my room…." She rolls her eyes, obviously trying to take his mind off things.
Freaking nightmares.
"It's alright," he mutters, "I'm fine… I know how weird this must be for you, I mean, for me too. Grant Ward of all people…" He shrugs apologetically, and is relieved to see a lighter expression on her face again.
"Yeah," she admits, "say what you will about that bastard, but he has a way to get to you."
"I know it's hard for you to believe, and I don't expect you to understand it, either, or start to like him or whatever. I know what he did to you and the others is unforgivable, but… He saved my life, Daisy, I don't think I would have made it back without him. And he had no gain from bringing me back."
"I know…"
…
And she does. She does know it's true, and deep down, there is a part of her that never stopped hoping there could still be redemption for Grant Ward. Maybe that spark was fueled by her experiences in the Framework, she can't be sure, but knowing what she knows now, that Ward was selfless enough to keep Lincoln alive and bring him home, to be there for him when she couldn't, it softens her up toward him a little again.
Just a little.
Who knows, she thinks, maybe even he deserves another chance, and it is not up to her to decide whether he'll get one or not. Because if it was, she would give it to him. She would…
…
It's past midnight when Fitz finds himself wandering the hallways of the playground, unsure of where to go and what to do. He can't sleep. Can't share his bed with Jemma because she is so pure and he… he came home from the Framework with a monster inside of him and he simply doesn't know how to handle that. How to be himself anymore. How to deal with the fact that he has such potential for evil in him.
So of course his way leads him straight to the confinement chamber that holds the one person who knows all about being evil incarnate, and soon, he stands in front of the big plate glass window and stares inside, where Grant Ward is resting on his bed, arms behind his head, clearly still awake.
Fitz gasps lightly as the man stirs, then rises slightly, shooting him a grin.
"Fitz," he says, his voice raspy and so familiar. It sends a shiver down Leo's spine. "It's good to see you. You probably don't believe me, but it really is."
"Yeah," Fitz makes, rolling his eyes. "I don't believe a word you say. I don't care what you think. Or feel. Or…"
"Yet here you are."
He sighs, pressing his lips together. Ward knows him too well. He is still the big brother Fitz never had and it stirs something inside of him that he wishes was still dead. He has to remind himself of the things Ward did. To Jemma. To Bobbi. To himself. To so many people.
"You are evil, Ward."
The man has the audacity to smile brightly. "I used to be, yes..."
"You used to be?! You're really trying to… to tell us that you changed?! That there's still some good in you, and we should give you a chance?!"
Ward sighs visibly, looking over at Fitz with an almost resigned looking expression. "I'm not trying to tell you anything, Fitz. I understand if you can't see it or can't give me another chance. Hell, after what I did to you…"
"You're damn right!" Fitz is shaking and clenches his hands into fists to keep it under control. How does Ward still have that effect on him? Why did he have to come back.
He is squinting at Leo now, cocking his head a bit to take him in. "You're not here for me, are you? You're here because you want to find out whether you and I are the same."
"What?!"
Grant clicks his tongue. "I heard about the 'Framework' I think it was called? Yeah," he continues when Fritz's breath hitches audibly, "I overheard Jemma and May talking about it a little. Heard about your role…" He winks over at Leo, before his features soften into… oh gosh, understanding? Compassion? From Grant bloody Ward?! "You're not a bad man, Leopold Fitz. You never were and never will be. You are not like me. You are good."
Something shifts in him, he falters. Ward's words ring in his ears and he desperately wants to believe the man is right, that he is not bad.
"But you can't know that, can you? I saw how easy it could have ended differently. Just one little component in my life changed, and I could have gone down the same route as you."
"Fitz…"
He raises himself up, watching Ward, who is now sitting perched on the corner of his bed, one leg up. He still has the same signs of torture on his body as Lincoln. The patch above the ear is gone, but Fitz can see the slight discoloration of where the plastic had cut its way through. He remembers what both men told them about a slug or worm having been used on them, he remembers the findings of alien life form residue Jemma was examining after she had extricated them from each man's ears. Ward's feet, like Lincoln's, are still bandaged, his eyes hollow, tired and like he had been through a lot. Once again, standing here, seeing him, the toll his former friend's then enemy's ordeal has taken on him, Fitz wonders whether Ward's experiences up there in space can suffice as punishment for what he did down here on earth. To them. Is getting extensively tortured for more than half a year enough to make up for past crimes committed? Is saving the life of a man who saved all of humanity enough to make up for the lives he killed?
Is there an answer?
Fitz wants this to be true, Lincoln's truth. He desperately wants to believe that Ward has changed, and is a better man again, because if that is true, then there is hope for him, too, for Leopold Fitz.
Because, oh gosh, he can't live with the knowledge of having all this evil in himself if there isn't hope for him to become good again.
"Fitz?"
He looks up, surprised to see Ward stand right in front of the window now, looking at him from just a few inches away, head tilted slightly, expression… unreadable. Concerned?
"Are you alright?"
He scoffs loudly. Ward didn't just ask him that, did he? But he deflates quickly, shoulders sagging.
"I get it now," he says hoarsely, the admittance painful but necessary. "How easy it is to slip up, to go down the wrong route. And I don't know how you can live with what you did. Are you really trying to be a better person now? After everything you did? Because, frankly, I don't understand how anyone could live with themselves after… something that awful. I certainly can't."
It's out. He said it. He has admitted how he really feels, has admitted that he can't live like this. With this evil inside of him, eating away at him from the inside out. And if he can't do it, why can Ward? Why?
It's not fair… Or maybe it is.
Ward shakes his head, looking at him wearily. "That wasn't you, Fitz. Not really. It was you being stuck in a program. For me, it was different. Things did turn out the way they did because I made those decisions. At some point, you can't blame outer influences anymore, only yourself. And with me that is certainly the case. I made bad decisions and justified them with my own abuse. I have to live with it because I can't take it back and I can't just take the easy way out either. Honestly, I don't understand what changed. I didn't used to care. I really didn't. There was a time when I did, when I cared about my brother, then Jemma, you…"
Fitz scoffs, but doesn't interrupt him as he grins at him sadly.
"But I lost that part of me. I warded myself off, sealed away any and all feelings because I thought they only made me weaker. Then, when Coulson killed me and all should have been over, Hive took over and I was… back, yet not really back. Just all those jumbled thoughts, pain, fear, and so much regret. And then… well, I guess I got what I had coming for me. These alien freaks managed to get me back, truly back, and maybe they are to blame for the fact that I am here now." He shrugs, looking at Fitz head on, unblinkingly. "And that whatever I was before, is gone. I don't care if I have to stay locked up. I probably deserve even less than that, death, more torture, you name it; but I'm not going to pretend that I'm still the person I was before just so you all can feel better about it."
"You're trying to make us look like the bad guys."
"That's not what I said. You seem to think you're a bad guy, but I know you aren't. You're Leo Fitz, you don't have it in you to be truly evil." Ward chuckles softly. "Just… do me a favor and don't make Lincoln pay for having spent time with me. He's a good guy. He really is."
"I know." Fitz swallows. Ward's genuine tone, the sudden concern at the end there, still throws him. He's heard it before. Has seen it. How caring and kind Ward is with Daisy's boyfriend. And the worst, the worst about that is not that it shows him the man did truly change when it shouldn't have been possible, it's not that Maybe this makes Ward a better man than Fitz, deep down. No, the worst is that Fitz is jealous.
He is freaking jealous that Ward cares about Lincoln in a way he never truly cared about him.
And that feeling is awful.
"Hey, Fitz."
He whirls around to see Daisy and Lincoln appear, the latter a bit self-conscious looking, but Daisy just her usual self, and he briefly looks from them to Ward, then back, before he makes up his mind and points toward where they have just come from.
"I should probably… I… Jemma said she needs a second pair of eyes for the… uh, yeah. I'll see you tomorrow."
…
Fitz leaves so quickly that Daisy frowns. She is worried about him. Still. There is something different about him. Ever since the Framework, he has shut himself off. Away. Jemma is worried, too, she knows as much because her friend talked to her about it on multiple occasions.
Of course they know why he is the way he is. He feels ashamed for what happened in the Framework. For who he was in there. And she wishes she could do something to help him, but she doesn't know what that could be.
Looking up now, her gaze meets Ward's, and for the second time since he's been back, she truly thinks that maybe his being here does mean something good.
She first thought so after seeing him interact with Lincoln, back when Coulson hadn't allowed her to stay in the chamber with them, and hadn't allowed Lincoln to come out just yet.
How appalled and angry with him she had been, even though she knew that he was only being careful, that he had good reason to be. And still…
But seeing Grant be there for Lincoln, with Lincoln, it had made her start to see the old Ward in him again. The man she had once fallen in love with. The man he should have been back then but never actually had been. (Had he?)
With a sigh, she waves over at the man now, who grins back at her.
"Just so you know," she informs him, raising her eyebrows, hoping to give her words more gravitas, and knowing it is stupid. It won't work on Ward. He can still see right through her. "I'm only doing this for Lincoln. You hurt him in any way whatsoever, and you're toast."
"Duly noted and appreciated. I'm glad you're looking out for him."
"Hey," Lincoln says, looking slightly petulant, "I'm right here, you know?"
She focuses her attention back on him, smiling before she kisses his cheek lightly. "I'll leave you guys to it. I'm gonna check whether I can find May, make amends…" She winks as he smirks at her knowingly, both of them sharing this moment, before she turns to leave with one last look at Ward.
"I mean it, Ward."
"I know you do, Skye. Tell May I said hi."
She rolls her eyes, then leaves. For some reason, it almost feels good to have him back, too.
Almost.
…
She finds them sitting together in the kitchen, Coulson, Jemma, Yo-Yo, Mack, May. They're eating scrambled eggs, courtesy of Mack, and debating - what else could it be - what to do with Ward.
He's their favorite topic of choice lately, and none of them know what to make of his return. She knows that they feel similarly about Lincoln, but despite any tensions between him and the team, he's always been a good guy and they know it. They can accept and appreciate his return.
Ward, however, not so much.
"Hey," she says, sitting down next to Coulson, grinning innocently at May, who is shooting her a pointed look, only a little berating.
"You and I were supposed to spar earlier…"
"I'm sorry, I… um…" She is looking for words but May waves a hand dismissively.
"We all know why you didn't show up," Mack tells her from where he's still standing by the stove, and Daisy notices how awkward he looks, and how Jemma averts her gaze, staring intently at the plate in front of her while Yo-Yo and Coulson both chuckle lightly. She feels heat flush into her cheeks, when Mack drily continues, "Maybe try and keep the lightshow and special effects at bay a little next time, if you don't want everyone knowing what you guys are doing."
She grins sheepishly at him as he hands her a plate.
"Dig in, Tremors. I'm sure you've worked up an appetite. - Where's Sparkplug?"
"Thanks," she mumbles, then looks up, making a face. "He's with Ward."
"It always comes back to him, doesn't it?" Jemma gives her a strange look, then sighs. "Did you see Fitz there? He said he'd—"
"Ya, he was there. Was in a hurry to get back to you, though."
"Oh?" Jemma doesn't look very convinced and Daisy briefly wonders whether anything is going on there, when Yo-Yo interrupts her musings.
"Coulson here is debating letting him out. Can you believe it?"
"Yo-Yo…" Mack shakes his head at her, but she merely shrugs.
"What? Do any of us think that's a good idea? No."
"He has changed."
Daisy is surprised to hear Coulson speak, his voice soft as he does. "I know." He shrugs, then eats a bit of his egg, nodding to Mack. "Good stuff, Mack."
"Coulson," Daisy forces him to focus back on Ward, and he grimaces at her a little.
"I know, I know. But you've all seen it. Whatever these aliens did, or maybe it was Campbell's good influence, but he's not the same anymore, and we can't keep him locked away forever."
"Can't we?" May mumbles in between bites, but no one answers her rhetorical question, though the looks they exchange speak volumes. Ward, free, it's not anything either of them really want. Yet.
Except for Lincoln. She knows he wants his friend out of confinement. His friend… Daisy rolls his eyes to herself. Somehow that still feels so wrong. And that's without even taking into consideration that her boyfriend is now friends with her ex…
"He will have to prove himself to us, of course. He won't be allowed anywhere near Jemma, or Fitz—"
"Or me," May informs him coolly and he raises his eyebrows at her, but nods.
"Or May. He won't be allowed to leave the premises and we'll put a detector on him. But he could be useful in figuring out where they have been held and whether there's any danger coming from that direction still."
"You think these aliens are coming for all of us? For earth?" Daisy asks, the thought having only occurred to her just now. She doesn't know how to bring this up to Lincoln later, but she knows she'll have to. He won't like it. Hell, she doesn't like it.
"I do, yes. Jemma found what seems to have been intended as a form of sender perhaps, implanted under both Lincoln's and Ward's clavicles. She wasn't able to take them out, yet, because…" He stops and looks to Simmons for help in explaining what clearly he hasn't quite understood on an academic level.
"It's like a pacemaker, connected to their blood circulation, their hearts. I was able to deactivate it, but taking it out… it's partly embedded in the bone, and I'd have to put them under and neither of them is quite there yet and willing to do that.
Daisy huffs. "Understandable, after what they went through…"
"I was hoping Ward might lead by example and let me perform the procedure on him first so that Lincoln would see it's okay," Jemma allows with a small voice, and Daisy knows there's something unspoken in that suggestion, too. If it doesn't work out, it'll only be Ward…
"Okay," she says with a sigh, "I'll talk to Lincoln, see—"
But she doesn't get further than that because suddenly, a bright flash zaps through her, through all of them, and they freeze, time freezes, and the next thing she knows is she wakes up somewhere completely different. Alone.
…
When Fitz doesn't find Simmons in the lab, he knows where to look for her, and it doesn't take him long until he hears noises coming from the kitchen, voices, chatter, and the good smells of some food reach his nostrils. Eggs, and peppers, and tomatoes, and a nice dollop of salsa on top probably, if Mack is at it again.
Then he sees them, and despite everything, all his latest struggles and insecurities and feelings of being lost, he gets this sense of belonging and all is okay again for one wonderful moment.
"Here you all are," he begins, sees Jemma smile over at him, hears the rest of whatever Daisy is saying. "I'll talk to Lincoln, see—"
And then he blinks and opens his eyes to see… an empty kitchen. Plates sitting abandoned on the table. No noises, nothing. Daisy never even got to finish her sentence. Fitz never got to sit down and eat, feel Simmons' gentle touch on his arm.
They're just suddenly, inexplicably gone.
…
Grant chuckles at Lincoln's expression, enjoying this a little too much. Seeing the kid do so much better after just a few hours out of this obnoxious chamber. Freedom and Daisy have done wonders for him. He looks so much more lively, and for the first time in months, Grant sees the old Lincoln before him again. That kid that was with him when the world exploded, before the aliens got to them.
And it feels good.
"Relax," he tells him now. "I'm sure you two will get your static quaking under control soon enough. Practice makes perfect, as they say."
"Geez, Ward. Stop." Lincoln raises a hand as if in surrender, then runs the other over his face. "I don't think Daisy would appreciate you commenting on our—"
"Oh bloody hell, Thank god you're still here!" Someone suddenly blurts at them, and a red faced, panicked looking Fitz storms toward them, grabbing Lincoln's arm so hard the poor kid whirls around, flinching violently under the unwelcome touch.
"Easy there, Fitzy," Grant tells him, standing up behind his window, wary now, and frowning.
"I'm… sorry, so sorry." Fitz looks up at Lincoln, cheeks flushed, and seems to fight the urge to pat the other man in an apologetic gesture. But he's too smart to make the same mistake twice, and Grant knows they're lucky Lincoln is even still in the same room with them.
"What's going on?" Grant eventually asks because Fitz is frozen and Lincoln on hyper alert, and one of them has to be the grown up here so it might as well be him.
"Uh…" Fitz is too flustered to talk. Looking from Lincoln to Ward, then back, he finally pulls himself together, though. "They're gone," he says cryptically, and Grant's frown widens.
"Gone? Who's gone? Where?"
"Everyone. I mean. The team. Jemma. Coulson. Daisy—"
"What?!" Lincoln suddenly grabs Leo, staring at him intensely.
"I don't know what's going on. One moment they were all in the kitchen, eating, and the next… they were all gone. Vanished. As if… as if someone or something—"
"Beamed them away?"
Fitz's gaze meets Ward's and they all fall silent. A coldness creeps into Ward as he looks from Fitz to Lincoln.
What if that was the same things that snatched them up. What if…
… they came back for the rest of them?
They need to do something. Stat. Need to get their people back. And he can't help with that if he is locked up in here.
"Get me out of here, now," he orders and sees Fitz fidget, sees his internal struggle. He understands it, he really does. But now is not the time. "Come on, Fitz. Do you want to get them back or not?"
"Okay," Fitz says, "alright." Then his shaky hands come forward to press some keys on the chamber's interface and just like that, Grant Ward is free again.
He doesn't wait long. No theatrical gestures, no deep inhalation then exhalation. He just walks out, all business, gently pats Lincoln's shoulder, then nods at Fitz, and keeps walking.
"Let's get to work," he tells them. As if he has any idea where to start.
Maybe with the alien ship they used to get back home...
