Hey everyone! It's a longer chapter than usual but I couldn't seem to split it up, so here you are :)
Run Like Hell
It didn't take Bobbi long to locate Ward. All she had to do was follow the sound of things shattering. And the shouting.
"Get AWAY from me!" Skye yelled as Bobbi rounded the corner. An object sailed through the air and smashed against the wall.
Bobbi's eyes swept around the hallway quickly, taking in the shards of glass on the floor and Agent May slumped against one of the walls, blood trickling from a nasty head wound. Ward was on the opposite end of the hallway from her, with a deep cut across the cheek. Most of the glass was on his half of the corridor, so Bobbi assumed Skye had been the one throwing things. As he took a step closer to Skye, as if beckoning her to him, she could tell he was limping from a bullet in the leg—May's doing, she was sure. There was no way the Cavalry would go down without a fight, and the fact that she had gone down told Bobbi that Ward had most likely had the element of surprise.
"Behind you," she warned Skye before her presence could startle her, and she immediately holstered her staves in exchange for her handgun. By the time she got it out Ward had his own trained on her, but his eyes were still locked on Skye.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he promised.
Skye let out a scoff. "Yeah, right. You lie, Ward, that's all you ever do."
"I told you I'd never lie to you, and I'm going to keep that promise. Just like I'm going to keep my promise to take you to meet your father."
She stared at him angrily. "Even if it wasn't a psychopath offering to take me to him, I still wouldn't want to meet my father. I've seen his work, his victims… He's a monster, just like you."
"You don't understand," Ward insisted. "He's—"
"Drop it, Ward," Coulson said from behind him. Now there were two weapons trained on him, Bobbi's and the director's. Ward finally lifted his gaze from Skye and looked between the two of them, his gun arm lowering...to point at May instead, who was still unconscious.
"I planted a bomb," he said evenly. "You don't want to shoot me."
"Fitz disarmed it," Bobbi told him, making her eyes steel so as to not betray her bluff. She had no idea how far along the others were with getting rid of it.
Ward glanced at Skye—glaring daggers at him—Coulson—serious as could be—and Bobbi—wishing she could just shoot him now for what he put her daughter through—and he let go of the gun, dangling it on his trigger finger. "Then I guess you got me."
"Drop it," Bobbi repeated, and the gun clattered to the floor. "Hand over the detonator." He made to reach into his pocket, and she shook her head. "Hands where we can see them." Eyes searching for any sign of movement, she signaled for Coulson to approach and relieve him of the device. Once that was done, the director wrestled Ward's hands behind his back and snapped him into S.H.I.E.L.D.-issue electric cuffs.
Ward looked at Skye. "You can't tell you're not at least curious. About your past, where you come from. You've been searching for answers your entire life...don't let our history stop you from getting what you've always wanted. A family."
Skye stepped forward, stopping right in front of him and put a hand on his chest, fingertips barely brushing the fabric of his shirt as if to steady herself. For a moment Bobbi was concerned Skye was falling for his act. Then the hacker punched him in the face.
Ward said nothing more as Skye stepped away, turning and kneeling besides May. He spit a globule of blood out of his mouth as Bobbi readjusted her grip on her gun and Coulson took ahold of him by the collar, beginning to steer him towards the basement. "Try anything, and we will kill you," he promised.
"I might just kill him right now," Bobbi growled. The director shot her a look, but Ward beat him to speaking.
"Relax, Agent Morse," Ward sighed. "You know by now that your daughter—Isabelle, isn't it?—was never in any real danger." Bobbi only glared at him glad that Skye had gotten her punch in.
Coulson returned his attention to the prisoner after another moment, starting their march towards Vault D and taking for granted that Bobbi would never execute Ward without permission. And she wouldn't. She knew full well that he was of more use to them alive than dead. She just wished she could.
It became more apparent as they descended the stairs—the director's gun still aimed squarely at the back of Ward's head—that the bullet in their prisoner's leg needed attending. "Should we…?" Bobbi gestured at it.
Ward paused, looking at Coulson. "It'll be good to see Simmons again. Assuming she doesn't kill me, that is."
"After we get to Vault D," he replied, giving him a slight push forward again. Ward acquiesced and turned away again, continuing down the stairs. On the last step, he stumbled a little—and all hell broke loose.
Several things happened at once. Some sort of gaseous fog began rising from Ward's shoes. The corridor and all the ones branching of from it as far as could be seen were plunged into darkness. The ever-present low hum of the Playground ceased. And lights exploded in front of Bobbi's eyes as something hit her hard in the forehead, knocking her down.
Blinded, she barely managed to get her arms out in time to prevent her head from cracking on the concrete steps. The gun skittered out of her hand, and the world for Bobbi winked out of existence.
When her eyes shot open, she could see again. The fog—both the one in the air and the one in her mind—was clearing, and red emergency lights had clicked on in the base.
Ward was gone, disappeared into the smoke. Immediately Bobbi wished she had killed him while they had a chance—or at least ICEd him. Intellectually she knew that if Ward was capable of mounting an escape like this he never would have let her execute him. Intellectually she also knew none of them had been carrying an ICER to confront the homicidal maniac. But faced with their utter and complete failure, she berated herself internally for not doing better. For not putting a final end to the life of the man who had placed a dead man's switch in her four-year-old daughter's hand.
Coulson groaned beside her, and Bobbi pushed herself to her feet, stumbling forward just far enough to pull the emergency alarm—as if everyone didn't already know there was an emergency from the sudden shutdown of the base—before kneeling down beside him. The momentary stars dancing across her vision faded, and she helped him to his feet as well, and he surveyed the space around her with the same frustration present on his face that she had felt a minute ago. "Are you all right, sir?" she asked.
"I will be when we catch Ward," Coulson replied grimly. "You?"
"Just a bruised, I think," Bobbi replied.
"Gather the team then, have them meet in my office." He frowned. "Isabelle?"
"She's with Hunter," she supplied. "I can't leave her alone after what happened; can she...?"
"Extenuating circumstances, Agent Morse, I understand," Coulson nodded. "Bring headphones. We still can't risk her overhearing any classified information before she's learned how to keep it a secret."
"I don't imagine she'll want to listen anyway, not if it's about Ward," Bobbi replied with a nod. "Thank you, sir." She took a step forward and almost fell, suddenly beset with wooziness. Stopping, she put a hand to her head. It came away bloody. "Okay, maybe not just bruises."
"Have Simmons check you over first," Coulson decided. "Meeting in fifteen minutes." Bobbi nodded her assent and set off down the hallway, running a hand lightly along the wall to steady herself. At the last second she turned and headed to her room instead, seeking to be reunited with Isabelle and inform Hunter of the situation before going to get patched up. Besides, by the time she reached it, the dizziness had mostly worn off, leaving her with a pounding headache but less of a fear of crumpling unceremoniously to the floor mid-step.
"Bobbi!" Isabelle spotted her as soon as she opened the door, the alarm in her eye fading as she saw a friendly face appear.
"Hey, Isabelle," Bobbi said, holding out her arms. After a moment's hesitation, the girl wriggled off Hunter's lap and attached herself around Bobbi's legs. She hefted her up, situating her daughter on her hip and hugging her tightly.
"Bob, are you hurt?" Hunter asked, standing up and coming toward her to get a better look. There was alarm in his eyes at the sight of blood discoloring her blonde hair.
"I'm going to have Simmons check it out, but I had to see her first," Bobbi replied, gesturing to Isabelle.
"Ward?" Hunter questioned. Their daughter's grip on her tightened perceptibly.
"Got away," she answered curtly. "Coulson's having a briefing in ten in his office." She looked down at Isabelle, who was practically cowering against her, burrowed in as close as she could get, and Bobbi knew she had been right that she couldn't leave Isabelle alone for the briefing. "It's okay; he's not here anymore," she said softly. Isabelle only whimpered and clung tighter. Bobbi swung her gaze back toward Hunter and nodded with her head towards the door.
He caught her meaning immediately, handing her her cell phone which he had apparently dug out of the bit of rubble surrounding the knocked-in door. Bobbi blew some of the dust off of it before slipping it into her pocket. "Yeah, we should probably get going to the lab if we don't want to be late."
"Actually, could you tell all the others you can find about the meeting?" Bobbi requested, grabbing her earbuds off the dresser with her free hand.
He nodded. "Want me to take Isabelle?"
"No, it's fine," she shook her head. Besides, he'd need a crowbar to pry her off in this state. "Thanks, Hunter."
He gave her a small smile before ducking out the door. "Anytime, Bob." She checked to make sure she had everything before putting a hand to her head—that really did hurt. Hastily wiping the blood off on her dark pants, she followed her ex-husband out the door, heading in the opposite direction.
When Bobbi arrived at the lab with Isabelle still clinging to her neck, Simmons was wringing her hands over a stopped centrifuge. She looks up immediately as they entered, exclaiming, "What happened?"
"Ward."
Simmons eyes bulged. "Ward, here?" She ushered Bobbi over to the tilting exam chair, snapping on rubber gloves with practiced ease.
"Yes, he—"
"Jemma! Jemma!" Fitz burst into the lab, red-faced and out of breath. "Thank God I found you! Ward's in the base! He planted a bomb in Bobbi's room, but Trip's transporting it to..." He stopped, spotting Bobbi in the chair.
"I know, Fitz, I just found out," Simmons told him. "What do you mean, Trip's transporting a bomb?" She looked down at Bobbi, fingers already gently probing the wound on the side of her head.
"Maybe now isn't the time to talk about this," Bobbi suggested, glancing down at Isabelle draped across her. The girl was by no means asleep, but practically trembling at every mention of Ward. "Your former team member is no longer on the base, and everything else will have to be explained by Coulson in the briefing in five minutes."
"Oh, the poor thing," Simmons sighed, gazing at Isabelle with sympathy. "Of course she's scared; I never should have said anything." She paused in her medical ministrations and leaned down. "I'm sorry, Isabelle. But you're safe now with all of us." She looked at Bobbi. "We...are safe now, right?"
She nodded.
"And did you say five minutes? I never get enough time for these things with you specialist types, always all gung-ho and up-and-at-'em. Honestly, you think I can stitch up a possible cranial fracture and check you for a concussion all in five minutes..."
"I don't have a cranial fracture," Bobbi told her as Simmons began attacking her wound with a needle and some black surgical thread.
"Well, we won't know that until after the meeting now, will we?" the young scientist replied before falling silent to focus on her work. Bobbi sat as still as she could, impatient and not wanting to be late but knowing she had to at least have a short-term patch before running off to the briefing. It felt like twenty minutes had passed before Simmons took a step back and started peeling off her gloves—in reality it had only been seven. "But you don't seem concussed," the woman went on. "Let's just be sure… You don't have a headache, do you?"
"No," Bobbi answered automatically, sliding her legs off the chair and planting her feet firmly on the ground. "Let's make sure on the way." She rose slowly, knowing she was much taller than the biochemist as at her full height Simmons wouldn't be able to reach her head anymore but not wanting to knock her over. Or have the wooziness return.
The woman made a disapproving noise but followed as Bobbi headed out of the lab and for Coulson's office. "Just a few questions then, Bobbi. Simple ones, just to check for a concussion. What day is it?"
"November 11th, 2014."
"My name?"
"Jemma Simmons, PhD times two," Bobbi told her.
"And S.H.I.E.L.D. stands for?"
This time she shot an incredulous look back the scientist's way before answering. "Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division." She stepped quickly into Coulson's office before Simmons could ask any more silly questions. The rest of the team minus Triplett had already assembled, all with grim expressions. Glancing around at them all, she went to stand by Hunter. She handed the earbuds to him and after a brief questioning look he inserted them into Isabelle's ears.
"Music?" the girl asked, looking up at them.
Nodding, Bobbi plugged the jack into her phone. "Tell me if it's too loud, okay?" She scrolled quickly through her music to find an appropriate artist, then told it to shuffle through the songs. Isabelle looked around at them all before burying her face in Bobbi's chest and snuggling in, content to listen as long as she was being held.
Coulson began the meeting as soon as he saw they were finished. "As you all know, Ward paid us a visit."
"Broke in," Skye interjected sullenly.
"Is everyone all right?" the director continued, looking around at each of them but lingering especially on Simmons, waiting for her expert opinion.
"I'll do exams of everyone injured once we're finished," the young scientist assured him.
"Good. Now, I want to know exactly what happened, starting with how the hell he got in," Coulson said.
For a moment, no one spoke. "I was examining Lola, in the garage," Mack said finally. The bloodied side of his face had been cleaned up, leaving only a wounded patch the size of a lime. "I turned around, and he was behind me. Must have knocked me out straight after, because the next thing I know I was waking up in the hall closet."
"So you don't know how he got there?" Coulson asked.
"No."
"Anyone?" the director looked around at them all. "We'll have to ascertain that later. What happened next?"
"He went looking for Skye," Bobbi supplied. "Tried her room, but she wasn't there and he ended up catching Isabelle instead. He figured out she was my daughter and used her against me, gave her a dead man's switch—which we later found out was fake—and put a brick of C4 in with us. He didn't realize I had another cell phone from my time in HYDRA, so I was able to use that to call Hunter."
"And I called Mack," Hunter added. "For the bomb."
"Bobbi called me as well, informed me of the situation," May said. She looked much better now than she had on the floor. "I went looking for Skye—to warn her—or Ward." Her voice darkened, becoming almost deadly. "And I found him." Everyone waited for her to elaborate—Bobbi for one wanted to know exactly how Ward had managed to knock out the Cavalry—but she was silent.
Eventually, Mack shifted to his other foot and picked up the narrative. "Fitz found me in the closet. When I woke up, I had a message on my phone from Hunter telling us about the bomb. He ran to tell Simmons in the lab—"
"But she wasn't there," Fitz cut in, looking at her.
Simmons was gazing at them all with her mouth slightly open, and at Fitz's pointed look she exclaimed, "I stepped out for five minutes to make a sandwich and go to the loo, and I missed all of this!"
"That's not all," he told her. "Mack and I took the C4 back to the lab to...to shave off the excess explosive before Trip took it out of the base."
"Maybe it was more than five minutes," Simmons amended.
"Where's Agent Triplett now?" May asked.
"According to the GPS in his car, less than five minutes from the warehouse," Fitz consulted his tablet. "But I think it's unlikely Ward ever would have blown us up—he'd risk Skye dying in the explosion too." The hacker looked uncomfortable with the thought of herself being the only thing stopping Ward from blowing them all to kingdom come.
"I left Isabelle with Hunter to go after Ward," Bobbi continued, eyes on Coulson. "He'd found Skye and May was down. Ward had a cut on his face and a bullet wound in his right leg, but he must have been running on adrenaline. And then you arrived, and..."
"We had him in custody, but he escaped," the director nodded. "Used some sort of EMP to knock out the lights and generators and had some sort of smokescreen come out of his shoes."
"Is that why all the lights went off!" Fitz exclaimed.
"And why the centrifuge stopped, ruining a perfectly good batch of B-683 blood samples!" Simmons added, turning to face him. Coulson held up a hand, and the two of them quieted.
"I pulled the alarm when I came to, but he was already gone," Bobbi finished.
"Which means we're back at Square One," Coulson sighed.
"No, we're not," Skye spoke up. Her arms were crossed and her shoulders hunched—Bobbi didn't think she'd ever seen the cheerful hacker look so miserable. Violated. But her voice was strong. "I put a tracker on Ward, before you took him away to Vault D."
"You knew he was going to escape?" Mack asked.
"No, but I knew we shouldn't take any chances with Ward," Skye answered. "Until he finds it, we can get a live location on him to twenty-five feet accuracy. And I know he hasn't found it yet, because..." At Coulson's go-ahead she pressed a few keys on his computer. A window popped up, showing a moving red dot across a field of green with a few lines of gray snaking through it. "He's on the move. A train, by the speed of it."
"Well done," May told her. The director was also looking at her with something akin to pride on his face.
"All right then, team, we mobilize," Coulson said. "Skye, I want you to continue monitoring his location and keep me updated. See if you can predict where he'll get off the train, as that will be our best time to nab him. Cross reference the course with his previous known locations if you have to." Skye nodded. "Then I'll need a team in the Quinjet ready to take him in." Coulson looked around at all of them.
"I'll be there," May said, leaving no room for discussion on the topic.
"Good," he nodded. "Hunter, are you in?"
Looking uncertain, Hunter shifted his gaze from Bobbi to Isabelle, and then back to Bobbi again. Her face was blank but her mind running like wildfire. If Hunter went, then with whom would she leave Isabelle? Skye, perhaps... There was no way Coulson would play directly into Ward's hands by letting her off the base right now. But she was likely also the most dangerous person to be around in this whole mess, since she was the one the murderous HYDRA traitor was after.
Hunter turned back to Coulson. "Yes, sir."
The director looked at her. "Bobbi?" She began to nod, only to feel Hunter's hot gaze burning into her from the left.
"You can't go," Hunter said, probably louder than he meant to. "You can't just leave Isabelle like that."
"If it means catching Ward..."
"Oh, here we go again," he ex sighed, dropping eye contact in apparent disgust. "I told you the mission would come first over her, Bob. The one time I wish you wouldn't prove me right."
"Maybe this is a conversation you two should be having in private," Coulson suggested.
Neither of them paid him any attention. "It's for her that I'm doing this, Hunter!" she shot back. "He threatened our daughter."
"And so no one else but you has the magical power needed to stop the bastard?" Hunter challenged. "Why do you have to go, Bob? Why can't you just stay with our traumatized daughter like a normal mother and take care of her?"
Bobbi stared at him for a moment, lost for words. "Fine. You go."
"Really?" He looked surprised.
"Yes, really. You're right; I should stay with Isabelle." She ducked eye contact with Coulson and May and simply walked out of the office, carrying her daughter close to her chest. From outside she could hear the meeting resume again without her after a few seconds of shocked silence that she had actually walked out of a S.H.I.E.L.D. briefing.
Shifting Isabelle slightly so that she had a hand free, she slipped the earphones from her ears, placing a small kiss on the top of her head as she walked. Her daughter's arms tightened around her neck in response, Isabelle resting her head on her shoulder. Bobbi almost headed for their room but remembered its current state of shambles at the last second, changing course for a spare one down a separate hallway. Her emotions were tumultuous at best, so she focused on the girl in her arms.
When they arrived, Bobbi found an empty room that looked almost identical to hers, but with bare walls and no extra bed on the side. She shut the door behind them and set Isabelle down on the bed with her legs hanging off the edge, ignoring her small protests. "I'm not going anywhere," she promised, kneeling in front of her so that they could be at eye level. "And I'm sorry if me leaving before upset you. I didn't mean to make you scared."
Isabelle nodded, then held out her arms. "Hug me?"
Bobbi smiled in spite of herself, wondering if the four-year-old was aware of how manipulative she was being or just really wanted to be held. "In a minute," she told her. "I want to talk about what happened with you first."
Her daughter's lower lip trembled and she shook her head profoundly. "I don't wanna talk."
"I know it's scary," Bobbi told her softly, taking her little hands in one of her own but otherwise keeping a bit of distance between them to make clear the severity of the situation. "Isabelle, I know it's scary and you don't want to talk about what happened, but we have to—I have to. I need us to be on the same page; I need you to understand some things that...that might be hard for you to understand." She took a deep breath, Isabelle's blue eyes staring fearfully back into hers. "I need you to know that I never meant to put you in danger by bringing you here." She stopped, alarmed by the way her eyes had suddenly filled with tears. She wiped them away with the back of her hand before taking Isabelle's up again, giving them a light squeeze. "I only wanted to do what was best for you, only I'm not sure it was anymore. And I feel responsible..." She gave a slight choked laugh as Isabelle stared back at her. "Are you understanding anything I'm saying?"
Biting her lip, Isabelle shook her head. Her blue eyes were still wide, but she appeared a bit calmer than earlier.
"That's okay," Bobbi said, wiping her face again with the back of her hand. "I just needed to tell you, that's all." She was tempted to go in for a hug—both she and Isabelle sorely wanted one, now—but while Isabelle was calm and attentive and while this all was fresh in her young mind Bobbi knew it would be best to talk through what had happened. It would be best if they could deal with it now and move on, in order to prevent Isabelle from reliving it uncontrollably—living in a constant nightmare. That she knew from her S.H.I.E.L.D. training regarding PTSD, and from watching a few of her fellow agents go through it. And, for a short time, going through it herself.
"But there is something I need you to remember. It's about Ward. Scott," she added for clarification. "He's a very bad man. You ever see that man again, you scream and you run like hell and you find one of the team, okay? Me, Lance, May, Phil, Trip, Jemma, Leo, Skye… You find one of us."
Isabelle held her gaze for a second before ducking her head. "Mommy said 'hell' is a bad word," she mumbled. Bobbi realized she was scaring her with the harsh tones she was using, but she couldn't afford not to. This was one instruction she never wanted Isabelle to forget.
"It is a bad word. It's a bad word I can use when talking about a bad man," she replied. "Promise me, Isabelle."
"I promise," the girl said in a small voice, barely meeting her eyes.
"Thank you," Bobbi said seriously, lifting Isabelle up and settling her on her lap after taking a seat on the bed. Her daughter gratefully leaned into her. "Oh, and...don't run off like that again," she added. "I'm here, you're safe now, but… It's more dangerous here than your old home. If you run off, I can't protect you." She looked down at Isabelle's solemn face and the corners of her lips tugged upwards. "And I really want to protect you. So can you do that for me?"
"I'll never run away from you again," Isabelle replied vehemently, burying her face in Bobbi's shirt.
She smiled. "That works too."
"What did Sco—Ward mean when he said...when he said I was yours?" Isabelle asked suddenly, emerging from her shirt with an expression of confusion.
The question struck Bobbi dumb for a moment, trying to work out how to respond. "It means..."
"It's okay if you say a big girl answer," Isabelle told her, looking at her seriously.
Bobbi gave her a nervous smile. "Thanks, Isabelle. It means that...you live with me now. I take care of you...you're my responsibility. And that you're sort of...my daughter." Bobbi clamped her mouth shut as soon as she had uttered the words, waiting for Isabelle's reaction. Her heart pounded in her chest; she could feel every nerve ending in her body tingling.
Isabelle's eyebrows furrowed. "Mommy used to call me her daughter. Does that mean...I have two Mommies?"
Barely able to breathe, Bobbi said, "Yes, you could think of it like that. Is that okay with you?"
The girl considered it for a moment before nodding. "I guess." She frowned again. "So...do I have two Daddies?"
Bobbi smiled. "That would be Lance."
Isabelle's eyes widened. "Really?"
"Really," Bobbi told her.
That ending was unexpected, even for me. So any of you I promised a confrontation/heart-to-heart between Bobbi and Hunter...next chapter, I promise! I'd love to know what you thought in the meantime though!