Fitz walked briskly, shivering slightly in the cool evening North Sea wind as he made his way back to the inn. He had been away for so long that he had forgotten how cold it got even in the summer months on the rugged coast of Scotland. The first day of testing went quite well and Fitz worked until late hoping that maybe he could surprise Jemma by returning home a day early.

The therapy at the clinic had helped to sort through the broken pieces of his life, to put some order and distance between memories he had of a life he never lived and memories he never had of a life he had lost. But he still felt fragmented some days and struggled with anxiety anytime he was separated from Jemma, which happened every once in a while, mostly for short business trips, like this one. He took a deep breath of the salty air trying to calm his mind like he learnt and just focus on breathing. He decided to call Jemma after he got back to the inn, even though she had sent him a message earlier that the appointment went fine and the baby was OK. He wanted to hear her voice, to get a feel how she was really doing.

"Leopold" Fitz froze when he heard the familiar accent from his nightmares. His hand started to shake almost immediately and he curled it into a tight fist before he turned around slowly. He did not really expect anyone to be there, so he forgot to breathe when he saw the dark figure, whom he recognized immediately because he looked uncannily similar to his Framework counterpart, if a bit more disheveled. The father who twisted him into the monster he would carry with him for the rest of his life. Fitz shut his eyes to dismiss the hallucination, but when he opened them again, his father was still standing there. Fitz's heart was pounding and his mouth tasted [ bitter with adrenaline..

"How did you find me?" Fitz asked between gritted teeth.

"That's not important. You have to hear me out, son." Alistair stepped closer and Fitz could smell on him the sour scent of alcohol that always surrounded him in his childhood memories.

"You don't get to call me that." Fitz spat full of anger. "And there is nothing you can tell me I would possibly want to hear." he turned to walk away.

"I've heard you got married..." Alistair called after him.

Fitz stopped in his tracks. "That's none of your business." he hissed. Somehow the thought that his father knew about Jemma made him uneasy. They had not exactly gone off the grid, but they were certainly keeping a low profile, leaving as little electronic trail as possible. Alistair's shadow had poisoned so much of his happiness already, Fitz did not want his marriage with Jemma to be tainted by him.

Alistair stared at him with the icy blue eyes that Fitz remembered so vividly from the Framework. The eyes that glimmered with derision at every misstep, turned cold with disapproval at the slightest display of emotion, that shone with unspoken menace right before the sharp lick of his belt. Those eyes that tormented Fitz until they became the Doctor's eyes - his own eyes. A one-way mirror to the soul that was dead inside. "Leopold, the baby… there are things you don't understand and you all could be in danger…"

Fitz felt his stomach flip at the mention of the baby. It took all his willpower not to let the panic that was washing over him show on his face. "What are you talking about…?" he stuttered.

"Listen, Brand Biologics - they were…" Alistair said on a low voice as he stepped closer. He did not get to finish the sentence. Fitz never heard the shot - the rifle had obviously a powerful silencer - he just saw the bullet penetrate Alistair's skull right before he collapsed to the ground. Fitz stared at his body, feeling like he had lived this moment before. Except this time he did not feel the pain or the blind rage - he felt… nothing.

He looked around, but the street was completely deserted - the shooter clearly did not want Fitz dead, otherwise he would have been lying on the pavement next to his father's corpse. He debated for a moment whether to call the police, but he was not sure how the flimsy background Daisy had cobbled together for them in a hurry to cover the years of clandestine spy work would stand up to a serious inquiry. Instead, he carefully searched Alistair's pockets, mindful of not leaving any fingerprints. He found some cash, a driver's licence, a packet of cigarettes and a key that looked like it belonged to a locker at train-station or at a sports club. He kept the key, shot one last glance at the man whose love and approval he craved for so long, but in this final moment realized meant nothing to him and walked away.

When he got back to the inn he made his way to his room and locked the door. He took out his phone. His first instinct was to call Jemma, but what would he say? That the dark shadow of his past that he thought he had left behind came back to haunt them? Should he relay her the troubling message about the baby? No, he decided, Jemma would be sick with worry and for the moment there was too little concrete to go on. He stared at the fuzzy ultrasound picture of their child growing inside Jemma. If he wanted to protect them, he had to find out more - if there was any truth to what Alistair was saying.

He took out the key from his pocket and examined it again. There was no engraving or any clues that could help him identify the location of the locker. The only other information to go by was the name of the company Alistair mentioned before he died. Brand Laboratories. Fitz opened his laptop and searched for the name on the internet but he could not find anything that looked remotely interesting.

He hesitated for a moment and opened the access portal to the SHIELD database. He knew all the loopholes of the system and could hack his way around it easily - unless Daisy updated the security measures in the meantime, in which case he had a long night ahead of him with a high chance of being caught. While he was pondering his options - his fingers acting on autopilot entered his SHIELD ID number into the access window. To his complete astonishment it still worked. Even though they had left SHIELD, apparently Mack never withdrew their credentials. Fitz knew his friend to be too meticulous for this to be a simple oversight - and a lump formed in his throat as he realized what it meant: even though they had left, this was a sign that their SHIELD family would always have their backs and had not given up hope that he and Jemma would return some day.

Fitz searched the files for any reference for Brand Laboratories. He scoured the few documents he found trying to get a picture taking notes, copying documents. It apparently emerged as a daughter company of Brand Corporation in the 1970s - an independent contractor meddling in all kinds of government projects fashionable those days - cutting edge weapon design, supersoldiers, dubious technologies sold to the highest bidder. It was not clear from the records what Brand Laboratories was exactly working on. Even though it seemed that SHIELD was loosely trying to keep an eye on them, their premises were nearly impenetrable, so the documents contained mostly rumours and speculations of genetic modifications.

He clicked on the last record from 1987. It was a heavily redacted file - Fitz scanned the document:.

Report of 4/6/1987 Glasgow, UK

Case number: D/4352/367/S/87

[redacted] breached the premises as directed. As in previous cases [redacted].

Other than [redacted] all evidence of the activity was destroyed. We found [redacted] in critical condition, they did not respond to our questions.

[Redacted] were missing, but [redacted].

All [redacted] had been destroyed - [redacted].

Scientific personnel [redacted] but we recommend continued surveillance of non-core staff members:

[redacted]

[redacted]

[redacted]

Based on our findings [redacted] we can infer that Project [redacted] has been shut down and no traces of [redacted] remains.

Signed

Agent Phillip J. Coulson

Fitz looked at the familiar signature, his heart skipping a beat. Coulson. He still could not believe that Coulson was gone. It was the biggest shock among all the bad news he had to process when the team rescued him from Enoch's ship. He remembered staring for hours at the commemorative plaque on the Zephyr trying to accept that he had lost the only father figure he ever had, the only one that ever mattered. With the memory, the guilt returned too - for all the reassurances from the team could not wash away the feeling that he was responsible for setting into motion the cascade of events that led to Coulson's death: the Framework, the LMDs, AIDA.

He read the report again trying to guess the missing parts. Could it be a coincidence that Coulson was in Glasgow the same year he was born, investigating the company that were the last words his sorry excuse of a birth father uttered before he died? What if it was all connected? What if it was not just a coincidence SHIELD decided to recruit him when he was barely 16? What if there was more to his life story?

He almost jumped when his phone rang.

"I - I hope I didn't wake you up…" Jemma murmured. Fitz could picture her perfectly in his mind, probably clad in her simple, gray cotton pajamas, curled up on the bed, her hair painted golden by the soft halo of the bedside lamp.

Fitz took a deep breath trying to sound casual. "No, not at all. I just got back to the hotel. Did something happen, Jemma?"

"No, everything is fine. I just wanted to hear how today went."

Fitz pushed away his guilt - that he was not telling her the truth, but he needed a little time until he had some answers, not just troublesome questions. He kept his voice neutral. "It was fine - no major disasters…and you?"

"Nothing more than I already sent you in the message. Everything looks good. Did you get the picture I sent you?" she asked.

Fitz was wondering for a moment what was the appropriate reaction to the blurry ultrasound picture of what looked like some sort of bizarre alien. "Yes - the bean has already a good sized head..."

"Peapod, Fitz..." Jemma giggled.

"Regardless…it is a sure sign that..." he continued rambling but she interrupted him.

"I miss you…" Jemma's voice sounded almost breathless. Fitz felt an intense desire to be near her, to bury himself in her soft embrace and forget about the terrible day he was having.

"I miss you too, Jemma." he murmured quietly.

"I…it's a bit lonely here without you..." she sighed.

It was the perfect opening to get Jemma somewhere safe, he realized, without having to give a reason. "Jemma, why don't you stay with your parents until I come back? Your mum always complains that you don't see her enough…"

"Fitz, I'm fine…" she sounded defensive. Jemma in her fierce independence had always had a hard time asking for or accepting help.

"...and I wouldn't worry so much about you and the little one." Fitz added hoping that if she did not do it for herself, she would do it for him.

"What's going on? Why are you worried?" She was not letting him off easy. They knew each other too well.

"You know, nothing in particular, I try not to be - but after all that happened…" he made a vague reference to their past traumas, with the distinct feeling that he was playing dirty. Still, it had to be done, she needed to be safe.

"Your anxiety attacks are back?" she sounded worried. Shit, it was not his intention to get her anxious.

"No, nothing like that. But I'd be more focused if I knew you were safe." Fitz tried to reassure her. "I'll go there directly when I'm finished here and we can spend the weekend with your parents, if you want." he added as a self-imposed penance for the omissions and half-truths he had told her. He was always reluctant to visit - not because he had a problem with her parents; Mr and Mrs Simmons were perfectly fine people, but Fitz always felt intimidated by their immense mansion located inside what felt like a huge parc. He had been vaguely aware that Jemma came from a wealthy family, but while they were in SHIELD, it never mattered. The reality of it did not hit him until they drove up the long driveway, framed by magnificent chestnut trees to be greeted by a house-maid. He felt like an outsider, like in that house there was a distance between them, when after all they had been through, he craved closeness.

"OK. I'll go then." Jemma replied, clearly cheerful at the thought of Fitz volunteering to spend more time with her family.

"Thank you. I love you Jemma." he sighed.

"I love you too." Jemma replied.

"Take care and let me know you when you got there."

"OK."

Fitz hang up the phone and returned his attention to the files and scribbled notes in front of him. He hated the idea of disturbing his mother with painful memories from the past, but he needed to know if she had answers. He dialled her number hoping that she wouldn't be asleep yet. She picked up on the first ring, always so eager to talk to him. Fitz felt a pang of guilt for everything she had been through on his account - all the uncertainty, worry, long months of silence. Fitz reassured her that there was nothing wrong. Then he carefully broached the subject.

"Mum, did father work for Brand Laboratories before I was born?" he asked.

"No, he worked for a security contractor." His mother sounded unsure. Alistair's work was always a bit of a fuzzy detail of the past. Fitz shuddered at the thought that he may have been connected to HYDRA even in the real world.

"And you've never heard him mention it?" he pressed on gently.

"What was it? Brand Laboratories? It rings a bell…" she pondered aloud. "Wasn't it written on the box of vitamins he brought for me, when I was pregnant? I'm not sure, Leo. It was such a long time ago…" she said apologetically.

"It's ok, mum. Don't worry." Fitz reassured her.

"Is something wrong? Why are you asking?"

"No, nothing wrong, mum. Just came up through someone I met who knew father." he lied. For a moment he thought about telling her that the man who tortured her all those years and abandoned them was gone for good - but he would have had to tell her the whole story.

"OK. Be safe, Leo. When are you and Jemma going to visit?" she asked hopefully. She was delighted that they were together and never missed an occasion to remind him that marrying Jemma was the smartest thing he had ever done.

"We'll try to come in a couple of weeks. Love you, mum." Fitz promised.

"I love you too, sweetheart."

Well, that was a dead-end, he thought. There was one other person who he knew might have some answers, but she had dropped off from the face of the Earth. Fitz decided it was time to find her. He started checking electronic transfers, satellite images, travel records, but she knew how to avoid being found when she wanted to. Still, after a few hours of wild goose chase, he finally hit the jackpot in the form of a late return slip from a local library in a remote coastal town in Canada.

"There you are, Agent May." Fitz muttered, as he jotted down the address.