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winchesterbrotherstan · 4 years

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Agents of Shield- The Asset

Pairing: Leo Fitz x Violet Ward (OC)

Summary: An old man is kidnapped, Skye struggles with her training, Grant, Skye, and Coulson go in head-first, Violet is worried about everything

Warnings: cursing, fighting, an explosion, uh maybe some blood?

Word Count: 8786

“Is she coming?” I held the punching bag steady for Grant, trying to put equal weight on both my legs.

“She’s supposed to be. Hey, ease up on your leg if you need to.” He pointed, stopping his punches, noticing how I shifted from one leg to the other.

“It’s fine.” I shook my head.

“No, it is not. Listen to him.” Fitz scolded from the lab.

“Shut up, Leo.”

“I’m sorry, love, but the boys are right. Don’t put too much stress on it, or you’ll be back to square one with fingers through your stitches.” Jemma gave me a kind smile, hinting to a few nights ago when our bus had been attacked.

“Haha.” Grant taunted, sticking his tongue out.

I took a jab at him, only for him to step to the side and catch me in a headlock. He laughed as I shook loose, eyes squinted.

“That was uncalled for.” I stuck my nose up in the air, turning my head to the side and ignoring him.

He cleared his throat and I looked to see Skye coming down the steps. Grant put his serious face on and went back to punching the bag.

“You know you’re late.” He eyed her.

“I’m tired from this morning’s workout. I thought I was joining S.H.I.E.L.D., not 24 hour fitness.” She sighed, giving him her hands so he could check over her wrappings.

“It’s called relative strength training. Starting with the basics. And next time, you do fifteen push-ups for every minute you’re late.” He readjusted one.

“Fine, Mr. Fun Machine. Better than pull ups. I don’t ever wanna do another pull up again.” She stated.

“You find yourself hanging off the edge of a building twenty stories up, you’re gonna wanna do at least one.” He gave her a face before turning to instruct her.

I turned to watch Fitz-Simmons in the lab, working on some sort of laser or whatever it was. Fitz caught me staring and winked at me with a goofy smile before going back to his work.

“I’m sure Fitz-Simmon’s supervising officer didn’t make them do this muscle stuff.” She hit the bag with both hands.

“You said you wanted to be a field agent, like Coulson.” Grant shrugged. “But, if you’d like to switch disciplines…” He nodded toward Fitz-Simmons, still hard at work in the lab, then looked at me.

Is she being serious?

I gave her a once-over and smiled at Grant.

Let me take care of it.

“Vi, what did your SO make you do when you were in training for psych?” Grant looked at me with eyebrows raised and a smile on his face.

“Psychoanalytics, fill-ins for the DSM-5, brain parts, ethics… I can keep going. Hey Simmons. What did your SO give you guys for morning drills?” I called out to her from my spot against the wall.

“Oh! Atomistic attribute drills. Yeah, we’d name the mechanical, chemical, thermal-” She spouted.

Skye rolled her eyes at me and threw a lazy punch.

“The electrical properties of materials.” Fitz finished.

“Okay, okay, they made your point.”

“There will come a moment where you have to commit to this or bail.” Grant moved around the bag to hold it for her. “Every field agent has a defining moment. Ask Coulson. When you have to make the hard call to either dedicate yourself to this or to curl up in a ball and run.”

“How can you run if you’re curled up in a ball?” Skye gestured before going back to throwing punches.

“It’s my job as your SO to make sure you don’t die before then. Come on.” He fixed her hands and patted the bag again.

“So what was yours, Agent Ward?” She asked him.

“Ten minutes.” He dodged the question.

“Your defining moment?”

He ignored her.

“Come on, tell me. I wanna know. I could get Coulson to give you some of that truth serum. You could spill your little heart to me all over again.” She smiled.

“You mean my level one overshare that miraculously got you to cooperate? I hate to tell you this, rookie, but we don’t have a truth serum.”

“Changing course, briefing in three. Shield 6-1-6 with new orders, set for Colorado air field north.” May came over the comms.

“Ah, looks like we’re on the move.” Fitz pulled his lab coat off and hung it in the corner before coming to my side and taking my hand, leading the way up the stairs.

We settled on the couches in the main room, sprawled out as Coulson came through the hallway. Fitz pulled me into his side and I swung my leg over his, comfortable in his grip.

“A few minutes ago, a S.H.I.E.L.D. transport was attacked while carrying a priority red protected asset off route 76 near Sterling.”

“Priority red?” Jemma asked, and Grant let out a low whistle as he sat on the armchair next to Fitz and I.

“The asset was Canadian physicist Dr. Franklin Hall, known for his work-”

“Oh no! Not Frank!” Jemma gasped.

Fitz leaned forward, a sad expression on his face, “Dr. Hall? He was our chemical kinetics advisor our second year.”

“Yeah, he’s so enthusiastic about science, we just adored him!” Jemma sighed. “We can rescue him, can’t we?”

“He’s one of ours. We’re gonna try.” Coulson nodded.

“And the attackers?” Grant asked.

“Invisible.” Coulson walked off.

“Wait. Invisible? Cool!” Skye laughed, and Grant shot her a look. “But terrible.” She cleared her throat.

***

“Dr. Hall was an asset?” Skye questioned as we walked down the road, squinting in the dark.

“One of a few select scientists S.H.I.E.L.D. has been protecting, people our enemies would love to get their hands on. We keep them hidden, we keep them on the move.” Coulson explained.

“Which is why Fitz and I were so lucky to have him.” Jemma spoke from the other end of the line, next to Fitz.

May, in the middle, stayed silent as usual. Grant and I exchanged a few looks, but he was soon focused on observing the street we were walking along for any potential threats.

“We don’t have him anymore.” Coulson grunted out.

“And what does priority red mean?” Skye asked again.

“It means security should have been…” he trailed off as we saw an SUV flipped over onto the side of the road. “Heavy.”

A fox scurried out from the bushes and to the road. Fitz jumped and Grant’s hand flew to his gun. I looked over to see the fox with blood stains on its white snout. I looked up to Grant again. His grimace matched mine.

Well, that’s just wonderful.

***

“It was pretty damn scary, and I don’t spook easily, boss.” Agent Mack was the only one left alive, and even he was pretty banged up.

May had gone with him to ask questions while Fitz-Simmons did their usual rounds of inspection with Skye tagging along. Grant was surveying lord knows what and I stood off to May’s side, picking up cues from Agent Mack that he didn’t even realize he was giving off.

“Nothing in the air from above?” May asked.

“Nothing over our shoulder.” He shook his head, “But what’s scary is they knew our route. They were waiting for us.”

“Are you saying they were working with somebody inside S.H.I.E.L.D.?” I took a step closer to the van he was sitting in.

“Sorry to say.” He shrugged. “It had to be.”

“Fitz, what am I seeing here?” Jemma shouted, causing the turning of heads.

“Well, I’m not wearing the full-spectrum goggles I designed, so no clue.” He chuckled, walking over to her with his tablet in his hands.

Coulson gave me a nod of his head and I followed them, rolling my eyes with a smile at Fitz’s nerd speak.

“Let me have a look. Come on.” He held his hand out for the goggles.

“Whoa, whoa, wait! Wait, no! Don’t move.” She ordered, holding her hands out to stop him.

Skye stopped immediately, but Fitz, as always, was clumsy and almost took another step forward. I grabbed him by the back of the shirt and pulled him backward.

“Wait a second.” Jemma whispered, kneeling to throw a fistful of dirt and gravel into the air.

It swirled, like a mini tornado.

“What the hell?” Skye took a step back.

“I think the electro-static field scanner activated some… thing.” She smiled.

A rock flew loose from the air pattern, flinging itself at us. I felt a hand on my head and I was forced to go down faster than I could duck myself. Fitz let out a yelp and Grant shoved me half behind him, staring at the thing with squinted eyes.

“Okay, can we deactivate it?” Coulson asked. “Now?”

She hit a few buttons on her tablet, and the swirl only seemed to gain an angry conscious, throwing more things at us. I ducked behind my brother, pulling Skye down with me. Fitz let out a second yelp before barking something about density at Jemma.

“I tried, Fitz!” She shouted, handing him the control.

I pushed out from behind my brother and tugged Fitz away from the swirl as he fumbled with the remote. I felt a thunk against my head and winced.

“Fitz!” May raised her voice.

He hit another two buttons before the remote shorted out and the swirling pieces dropped to the floor. Jemma bent down to pick up a twisted looking piece of metal and glass with a pair of tweezers, dropping it in Coulson’s outstretched hand.

“That did all this.”

“What is that?” Skye asked.

Coulson stared at it, rolling it in his hand. “Something big.”

***

We stood in a ring around the lab table, with the exception of Grant, who had told me what he was off to do, but I hadn’t listened. Fitz had the object in some sort of a microscope, with lit up goggles on his head.

“Either someone cracked our comm system, or Dr. Hall’s movements leaked from inside S.H.I.E.L.D..” Coulson was quiet.

“You really think we have a mole?” May asked him.

Jemma and I stood at the side of the table, watching as Fitz worked.

“I think you should go through the communication logs, rule it out.” He said with his hands crossed neatly. “We’ll work the tractor tread that we found on the scene.”

“I can do that.” Skye popped up. “Instead of pull-ups. I can upload an image of the tread pattern, check to see if there’s any sort of-”

“Already done.” Grant popped back in.

Right, he had gone to do that.

“Matched it to a 2010 model. Found a list of purchases within a 500-mile radius, narrowed it down to those with priors, financial troubles, or propensity for risk-taking.” He set it up to show on the computer.

“Three suspects.” He pointed as the pictures appeared.

“Who may have sold their construction equipment to the kidnappers.” Coulson’s arms were now crossed. “We’ll ask.”

Grant nodded and pulled the images off the screen. He turned to look at me over his shoulder, and I followed him out of the lab.

“You feeling any better? How’s your leg?” He looked down, slowing his step.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to slow down for me.” I scoffed, secretly grateful that he hadn’t forced me to trot up the stairs.

“I know. There’s a lot of things I don’t have to do.” He sat down at the bar. “So. Give me a runthrough. Why would someone kidnap a physicist?”

I hoisted myself to sit on the counter and grinned. “Maybe their kid needed tutoring?”

Grant rolled his eyes and pushed at my knee with his foot, essentially kicking me. “I don’t remember you being this joke-y before.”

I laughed. “I use humor to mask my emotions now. Ya know, like an adult.”

“Okay, okay. But for real. Why would someone kidnap a S.H.I.E.L.D. protected physicist? What good does a physicist even do?”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Physics is actually pretty cool, you people just don’t think it is. Physics covers a lot. My best guess within reason? Some evil rich person has a half-hacked plan to take over the world but needs a professional to help him seal the deal.” I shrugged.

Grant sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I hate the fact that that sounds like a valid, logical, reason.”

I laughed. “Well, we do work for S.H.I.E.L.D..”

“Yeah, okay. But I’ll bet you fifty dollars it’s some weird organization and not someone rich.” Grant snorted.

“You sure you wanna bet on that?” I grinned again.

***

“I just wanna know who paid you.” Coulson asked calmly as Grant and I crept around Lola, crouched.

The man paused, then yanked a gun out. “Paid me enough not to answer questions like that.” He aimed at Coulson.

Grant gave me a glance over my shoulder before moving, pulling the gun from the man’s hand and him along with it. I ran to grab the horse by the reigns, trying to calm it. The man landed on his back with a grunt, hands up as Grant pointed the gun at his head.

“Feels like the old west.” He turned to me with a faint smile as Coulson stepped closer to speak to the man again.

“They gave me money for my equipment, that’s all. I never saw a face. I never heard a name.” He had his hands up, eyes darting between Coulson and Grant.

“And how did you receive this money? They write you a check?”

The man sighed and pointed to the side pouch on the horse’s saddle. Grant looked at me and jerked his head in that direction. I patted the horse’s neck before moving over to open the bag, which was filled with gold bars.

“Paid you in gold?” Coulson picked a bar up.

I looked at Grant. “Now it really feels like the old west.”

***

“It looks like this because it’s a doré bar. It means it was made in a mine rather than a refinery. It’s only about 92% pure, the cowboy got cheated a bit.” Jemma explained.

“Can you determine a mine based off the impurities?” Coulson asked.

“Oh, yeah, we’ve done that already.” Fitz went to the computer. “It’s from the dacey mine in Tanzania, which is owned by-”

“Quinn Worldwide.” I came to his side as I cut him off, glancing at Coulson.

“I’m sure you’ve studied the CEO in your chemical engineering classes or saw him on the cover of Forbes. Ian Quinn.” Coulson sighed and walked out of the lab, up to the steps.

“He’s a sociopath.” I scoffed.

“I mean…” Jemma tried to put her positive twist on it, but to no avail.

“Who is?” Grant came into the lab, looking at me with furrowed eyebrows.

“Ian Quinn.” I said as Fitz pulled up a picture and turned his monitor so Grant could see. “Spoiled, bratty, millionaire evil genius.” I quirked an eyebrow.

Grant sighed deeply and pulled out his wallet, handing me two twenties and a ten. I pocketed them with a smile, giving him a half-hug as a thanks before going upstairs with Coulson.

***

“Darlin’, come downstairs. I’ve got a feeling you might wanna hear this.” Fitz came over the comms in our room and I rolled over in the bed, dropping my book onto my nightstand as I hit the button to answer.

“Are you sure I’m gonna wanna hear about it? I’m reading.”

“Well…” He paused and I could hear him clear his throat. “It’s a scientific breakthrough, darlin’.”

He knew he had me then. Any breakthrough was amazing, whether it was scientific or psychological or whatever else. I pulled one a pair of fuzzy socks and all but bolted down the stairs to the lab.

“Jeez, what’s the rush?” Skye asked, coming down the steps after me.

“Scientific breakthrough, come on.” I grabbed her hand and tugged.

“What is it, you guys?” I popped up to sit on the counter in front of the holotable, resting my chin on Fitz’s shoulder.

“Gravitonium.” He put his hands on his hips.

“What?” Skye asked, unimpressed.

“Holy shit.” I mumbled, wrapping my arms around one of his and leaning forward.

“It’s an extremely rare high-atomic numbered element.” He explained.

“It powers the device.” Jemma continued. “It’s so extremely rare that most people didn’t believe it existed, much less the theory that an isolated positive charge-”

“Yeah, would turn the flow from isotropic-” Fitz continued.

“Guys.” Skye interrupted them. “High school dropout here.��

Fitz looked at me, his hand frozen and his face confused. He didn’t know how to put many things into simple terms. I patted his back and tried to give him a guideline.

“How does the device work again?”

“Well, gravitonium distorts gravity fields within itself, causing an undulating, amorphous shape.” Jemma tried to explain, as Fitz was still stuck.

“Which causes these, um…” He pointed, trying to find an easy word. “Wiggly bits here! But when an electric current is applied,” he motioned with his fingers and I felt a goofy smile grow on my face. “The gravitonium solidifies. And those gravity fields erupt,” he continued to mime it and I held back my laughs. “Randomly changing the rules of gravity around it.”

Skye looked at me and I felt myself turn pink, trying again not to burst out laughing. Fitz gave my leg a squeeze before running over to the other side of the lab, now completely invested in his explanation.

“Well, so now you can imagine what would happen to a big rig at 100 kilometers per hour.” He rushed to sit at his computer, and then froze up a bit. “Or, well, you could just remember, ‘cause we saw it already, didn’t we?”

I walked over as he picked at his lips and then bit his nails as Jemma began to speak. I gently pulled his hand away from his mouth, linking his fingers through mine. He smiled at me softly and pulled our hands back to his mouth to kiss my knuckles.

“Come here.” He tugged me up to sit on his thighs with my side to his chest as he brought his arms around my middle and started to type.

I looked over to Skye, who winked at me.

“Guess which genius published every theory about gravitonium and possible applications years ago?” Jemma asked.

“Dr. Franklin Hall.” Skye answered.

“Correct.” Fitz-Simmons nodded.

“And Dr. Hall attended the University of Cambridge at the same time as Ian Quinn.” I looked at the files Fitz had pulled up on the computer.

“Violet, I think you might be off on this. Quinn’s a notoriously good guy.” Skye shook her head. “His charity endowment’s something like eight billion dollars.”

“Yeah, with money made from leeching the Earth of its resources. Looks like he’s dug up another.” Jemma scoffed.

“He’s textbook, Skye. Tries to give himself a good public image when in reality, dude’s only watching his own back.” I called without turning back to her.

“That’s my girl.” Fitz mumbled under his breath, still focused on the screen as one hand pulled mine up and he kissed it again.

***

“The man’s a prisoner, and it’s up to us to get him out!” Coulson was growing more frustrated by the minute.

“We’ve checked the specs. There’s no way into Quinn’s compound without a large S.H.I.E.L.D. strike force, or a man inside. He’s got neodymium laser fencing surrounding the property.” Grant scoffed.

“They’ll never allow a strike force into Malta.” I shook my head. “Plus, this weekend, Quinn Worldwide’s got its annual shareholders gathering. We’d risk global outrage. But…” I trailed off, looking to Grant.

Not if we go it by ourselves.

He sighed, but nobody else seemed to understand the nonverbality. Coulson picked up the slack for them.

“If we go in alone, S.H.I.E.L.D. can disavow us, claim ignorance.”

“Without a man inside, it’s impossible, unless you’re immune to pulse laser emissions.” May leaned against the table.

Fitz sighed from next to me and Jemma held her hands against her neck, her nervous tic. Fitz stood straight, and I already knew what was coming, but the amusement it would provide outweighed my desire to stop him in his tracks.

“If we had a monkey, we could get in.”

“Ah, Fitz!” Jemma seemed annoyed.

“If we had a small monkey, he could slip through the sensors and disable the fence’s power source with his adorable little hands.” Fitz put his hands up.

I bit back a smile as Grant looked at me with a face. I grabbed Fitz’s arm and pulled him tight against my side, smiling up at him.

“Now’s not the time, angel face.” I whispered.

“I could go in.” Skye had walked in at some point, and was now leaning nonchalantly against the wall, phone in hand.

“Drop me in the hills outside of Valletta. I’ll spend a few weeks establishing a cover, gathering intel-”

“We don’t have the time, Grant.” I cut him off, shaking my head.

“And to restate, any agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. caught on Maltese soil can be shot to death with bullets- legally.” Jemma gestured.

“Not me.” Skye spoke again. “I could go in.” She now took a step forward.

“Skye, this is serious.” Grant brushed her off.

“No.” I stopped him. “She’s right. She’s not an agent.” I looked to Coulson, who seemed to agree.

“This isn’t something the Rising Tide can hack, Skye.” Grant said with a layer of disgust in his tone.

“Did you hear the deadly lasers part?” Fitz looked from her to me, hands on his head. “Without a brave monkey-” I clapped a hand over his mouth and looked to Skye, a signal for her to explain.

“You said you could go in with a man inside.” She shrugged.

“And you wanna be that man?” May’s eyebrows were raised.

“Fitz-Simmons loved the guy, and he needs help. They could be torturing him. Or worse, making him do strength-training.” She glared at Grant.

“She’s a hacker, she can easily apply that to playing a role.” I rolled my eyes at him, sensing his upcoming protests.

“But she doesn’t have the background or clearance or experience with any of this.” He turned away from me and walked toward her, growing increasingly agitated.

“I know.” She put her phone up. “But I’ve got an invitation. Well, technically, it’s an evite.” She looked to me with a smile.

I didn’t bother to hold back my grin. She was something, that was for sure. I trusted she could do it, and if anything went wrong, Grant and I would figure out a way to pull her out if necessary. Grant looked at me with a sigh.

This is a bad idea.

I shrugged.

It’s the only one we have.

And although I wouldn’t admit it, I much preferred this to him going undercover.

***

“Grant!” I caught him coming out of Coulson’s office, fuming.

He turned to me. “It’s a bad idea. Actually, no” he began to gesture wildly, “it’s not just a bad idea, it’s the worst idea! She’s gonna get herself killed! She doesn’t know what she’s doing! And then what? We’re back at square one with one of our people down?”

“Hey.” I grabbed him by the wrist and pulled his arm down. “First of all, breathe. It’s gonna be fine. And secondly, we have a few days. You’re her SO.”

“Again. First on paper, but you’re on there too.”

I ignored him. “Keep training her. Get her ready physically, I’ll worry about getting her mind in the right state. We’ve tag-teamed before, let’s just do it again.” I looked up, eyebrows raised in the way Jemma always said was my ‘mom face’.

“Yeah, we’ve tag-teamed against a group of rebels shooting at us. Are you sure we can tag-team her?” He crossed his arms across his chest.

I threw my head back with an exaggerated groan and rolled my eyes. “Grant. We’ve tag-teamed Christian before. I think we can handle a hacker.”

I knew mentioning our older brother would be a risk, and I watched as his face changed and he became a few shades lighter. But it worked, because he was soon nodding and meeting my eyes.

“Let’s do it. I’ll head downstairs to do muscle memories. Come with, sit and watch. Let your little psych brain work some stuff out.” He held his hand out for mine and I stared for a second.

I couldn’t remember the last time Grant had held my hand. I knew that we always did when we were younger, because our family spent all our time out of the house and on trips, and Grant was the only one who had seemed to care that I didn’t get split up.

“Hey.” He whispered, leaning down to meet my eyes. “You’re okay.” He nodded, flexing his fingers.

I snapped out of it with a nod, slipping my hand into his and letting him lead the way down to the garage.

***

“Now, again, slowly, what’s first?” Grant held the unloaded gun level with Skye’s chest as they went over the maneuver once more.

She gripped his wrist and pushed it up, twirling under his arm and pressing herself into his chest, the gun still in his hand but under her control.

“And then?” Grant followed up.

She paused and I shifted on the metal steps, trying to find some sense of comfort. This had been going on for an hour, and I was surprised that Grant hadn’t snapped by now. My neck ached, my hips were burning, and my leg was throbbing. This was the last day we had to train her. Mentally, she was ready. But that was worth nothing if she couldn’t evade getting shot.

“Then things are moving too quickly. I’m a proper Southern girl-”

I watched Grant throw his head back with an eye roll that looked like it hurt as she pulled on an accent.

“You’ll make me untidy.”

“Twist the thumb, palm the barrel.” He moved his hands over hers to repeat the motions, a bit harshly.

“Ow.” She winced, taking her hand back and shaking it.

“You’re gonna die and leave us hanging out to dry, you know that?” He tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans. “You’re going in with no self-defense skills-”

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve.” She cut him off, crossing her arms.

“That isn’t enough. You need muscle memory, fundamentals, the tools to turn yourself-”

“Into a whole bag of tools?” She cut him off.

“Okay Skye, how did you learn computer science if you didn’t fully commit to it?” I asked, trying to find a better approach on teaching her.

“C.S. comes naturally to me. I’m sorry I’m not naturally whatever he is.” She pointed at Grant with a grunt.

He looked at me, neck snapping like it was broken.

What the fucking hell?

I returned the look, trying to ease his tension.

It’s okay. Calm down, and explain it. Don’t lose your head.

The air tensed, and I watched Grant’s fist curl. One mention of our childhood was enough to last a few months. Twice in one week was a major overload.

“You think this came naturally?” He stood straighter, shoulders squared as he took a predatory step toward her. “I had a brother who beat the crap out of me- and Violet. For nothing, for eating a piece of his birthday cake. I had to learn to protect us. The way I am trying to protect you. That was my moment. You asked.” He was towering over her now, and I could feel what he was feeling.

Anger, contempt, sadness, fear, every other negative emotion that you could possibly name. I watched as Skye slouched a little, looking from him to me and then at the floor.

“Sorry.” She looked up again. “Didn’t mean to push. But… I did manage to take this.” She pulled the gun up with a smile.

Grant took it back, his emotions gone and the heartless soldier back at play. “Getting the gun is one thing. Pulling the trigger- that is another.” He put the gun back to her chest. “Now, again, slowly, what’s first?”

***

“Skye will walk in the front door.” Coulson paced, trying to keep awake.

It was six in the morning, and none of us had gotten nearly enough sleep. I was leaning back against Fitz, who had his arm around me as he breathed deeply. May and Jemma seemed wide-awake, and Grant was taking a mental nap in the corner, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“The only external access point to Quinn’s underground facility is from a beach cove. A two-man extraction team could slip in there, but it’s not easy. Fitz-Simmons.” He handed it over to them and Fitz begrudgingly kissed my cheek before leaving my side and joining Jemma at the screen.

“The perimeter is surrounded by a twenty foot high neodymium laser grid. Touch it, and you’re toast.” He looked at me as he spoke, as if he were also struggling to stay awake.

“Dead toast. The only way to disable the grid is to crack the system and trigger a reboot. This would give the team three seconds to cross. Of course, Quinn’s too smart to allow any wireless access on his property.” Coulson walked through it.

“That’s where I come in.” Skye nodded.

“Yes.” Jemma opened the black case on the table.

I couldn’t see with everyone standing around it, but Fitz grabbed my hand and pulled me in front of him, squeezing my shoulders after I padded over.

“Working compact- holds up under X-ray.”

“Desert rose. To match your complexion.” Fitz pointed at the small mirror. “But oh, what’s this?” He picked it up, slinging his arms over my shoulders so I wouldn’t have to switch spots again. “A readout, okay? Turns green if you’re in close enough proximity to a computer to gain wireless access.”

“When it does, you just drop this nearby and walk out. We’ll do the rest. Easy as pie.” Jemma smiled as Fitz closed the mirror.

“Or it will be. If you stick to the plan.” Grant spoke for the first time since we had gathered in the conference room to review the plan.

“Got it. Plan, green, drop, walk… pie.” Skye smiled.

Fitz handed her the mirror and she took it with a small thank you, flipping it around in her hands as Jemma explained something to her. Fitz turned me around and pulled me to lean against him, arms over my shoulders as I let my head fall into its spot against his neck.

“Alright team. Suit up.”

***

“Wife’s name is Nadrah.” May filled in the gap for Skye, swiping around on the holotable.

“Sir, are you sure you don’t want me to go in? Grant and I work really well together, and that way you don’t have to go out into the field.” I tried to reason with Coulson, who was gathering his gear.

“I’m sure, Violet. You stay here, keep Fitz-Simmons calm. You know they panic in intense situations. And don’t worry. I’ll keep your brother safe.” He patted my shoulder with a smile before brushing past me.

I sighed and looked up to the ceiling. Fitz walked in, handing me a bowl of popcorn and a water bottle. He gave me puppy eyes and I followed him to the holotable, where May was still directing Skye.

“How’s she doing?” Fitz whispered before shoving popcorn into his mouth.

“She’s good.” Both Jemma and May whispered back.

“I could get used to this, people. It’s like Siri if it worked.” Skye spoke. “Skipper to Bravo. I’ve got eyes on Top Dog. The Eagle is landing on it.”

We all looked at each other, and May let a small smile twitch past her lips despite her eye roll. I giggled and hopped up to sit on the table.

“What are you doing?” Jemma asked.

“Uh, sorry, I-I dunno. I see Quinn, I’m gonna go talk to him.”

Jemma smiled hopefully and May remained stoic. Fitz offered me popcorn. I only opened my mouth, letting him throw the pieces in and laughing when he missed horribly.

We heard Skye laugh over her comm. “Yeah, right? Ian Quinn. I’m your last-minute party crasher. Skye.”

“Oh. Wow.” We could hear Quinn too, albeit faintly. “Great to meet you. Um, this is Skye, a member of the Rising Tide. They’re a group of hackers. They’ve gotten some pretty big secrets out to the public.”

“I prefer hacktivist. I’m glad you’ve heard of our site.”

“I read it. We think very much alike. More freedom of information, less government infringing on everyone’s rights. I’m a fan.”

I rolled my eyes and grabbed at Fitz’s tie, pulling him to stand between my legs so I could lean against him.

“That explains the invite. This is a tough party to get into.”

“Not as hard to get into as the encrypted back channel you contacted us through to request the invite.” His tone was annoying, and he was trying to flirt with her.

“That’s sort of where I live.” I heard Skye force a laugh.

“You’ve got to show me how you did that- I mean, if you sign on.”

She paused. “Sign what, now?”

“I’ve been known to turn a few black hats into white hats, not just for vulnerability analysis, but for very creative thinking.”

Skye hesitated and I rolled my eyes again, thumping my head against Fitz’s shoulder. He only rubbed my back.

“A-are you offering me a job?”

“Well I didn’t invite you here for your pretty face. I didn’t know you had a pretty face.”

I looked over my shoulder at May, who only shook her head and mirrored my eye roll. Fitz caught my look and tutted at me, pulling me back against him and kissing the top of my head.

“Yes, I wanna hire you, before someone else snatches you up.”

“That seemed to go well.” May noted.

“Yeah. It did.” She breathed out, and her tone seemed different, but I was tired beyond belief.

Grant and I had spent the entire night awake, sparring to try and blow off steam. The mention of our older brother twice in three nights had shaken us both to our cores, and then we were awake and angry. We had gone until three in the morning, at which point I realized the time and sent him to bed because he had to be alert to be the extraction tomorrow. I had spent another two hours on the punching bag. At that point, Fitz came downstairs with pajamas and sleepy eyes, looking for me. We hopped in the shower together because he was scared I’d pass out and drown if I were by myself, and I fell asleep afterward, with only half an hour left until we had to be up to start our day all over again.

The comm stuck in my ear crackled to life, and I was relieved to hear Grant on the other end.

“Hey Vi. We’re here. Keep you updated.”

“Sounds good, bubs.” I mumbled back.

I could hear Coulson over the comms, saying something about Grant’s personality setting Dr. Hall on edge. I scoffed a laugh and turned my head into Fitz’s shoulder.

“It’s locked, but there’s no lock.” I heard Skye.

Fitz grabbed another handful of popcorn. “Eh, check for a keypad.”

“Nothing. What, you can hack a keypad?”

“No, not over the phone.” He mumbled, bringing the bowl of popcorn over my shoulder and placing it in my lap.

“Is there a reception desk?” May asked.

“Okay, yeah. Well now what do I do?”

“What are you trying to do?” Quinn’s voice came over her comm and we froze.

“Just… looking for a pen,” she laughed nervously. “Here we go. Gotta write down all those good ideas, you know what I mean? Of course you know what I mean, you probably have like ten pens for all your ideas…”

“What are you really doing?” His tone escalated.

Skye took a long pause. We stared at each other and I pressed the comm in my ear.

“Grant? She might’ve just been made.”

“Noted.” He grunted back and then was gone as quickly as he had come.

“Alright. I’m busted. I was trying to get a glimpse behind your office doors, see how things really operate.”

“I invite you here as a guest, you treat me like another corrupt institution, looking for trade secrets to leak online. Security-”

“No, no, no, wait. It’s just… with all these la-di-da people, you have to be so guarded, so … careful. What you say. What secrets you reveal. And … I was hoping that you and I… could be honest with one another. If you know what I mean.”

There was another long pause, and then there was a creaking of doors and Skye was back to normal. Fitz had climbed onto the table to sit behind me, forcing me to swing my legs to the other edge of the table. The popcorn was still in my lap, and I was grateful, because that way the warmth of his arms never left my sides.

“My office had less space, more wheels. Wow. A view of the ocean and the pool.”

“Not a bad place to do business.” Quinn flirted back.

“Got the dispatch leaking Hall’s location. User’s an alias.”

“Oh, can you trace the DHCP server-”

May cut Fitz off. “Trace is running, but it’ll take time. How’s our girl?” She asked, referring to Skye.

“I thought she was done for, but she just sweet-talked her way into Quinn’s office.” Jemma exclaimed.

“Grant. She’s good. She’s in.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure, idiot.” I scoffed.

The line clicked off without a response.

“How’d she manage that?” May asked.

I sputtered, shaking my head. Fitz squirmed behind me, using his hands as he spoke.

“She probably just used her, um, uhh…” He stumbled as Jemma and May shot him glares.

I turned to see his hands cupping his chest.

“Uh, her uh… boobs.” He spat out.

I rolled my eyes and got off the table, leaving the bowl in his lap and standing at his side.

“Ugh! That’s the only explana-” Jemma was cut off by static.

I looked down to see Skye’s comm gone. “Shit, the signal’s dead.”

“Fitz, what did you do?” Jemma hit his arm.

“What- I didn’t do anything! She must’ve- oh lord.” He sighed.

May looked at me. “She’s double crossing us.”

I shook my head. “No, no, no, no, no. Stop. We’re not gonna jump to conclusions here, alright? She’s probably just got an idea.” I defended her.

“She’s supposed to stick to the plan!” I forgot my comm was on.

“She’s just offline. We lost audio and vitals.”

“Abort is not an option. But if she’s compromising-”

“She’s still your only way in to get to Dr. Hall. And you’re the only way out. Sit tight.” I rolled my eyes and clicked the comm off.

“Violet. Just think about it. Why else would she turn off her comm?” Fitz asked me, eyes kind.

“She’s got a plan. Just trust me. She’s gotta have a plan.” I clicked my comm back on. “Grant, just keep moving. This doesn’t change anything. I’ll keep you updated.”

He scoffed on the other end. “Since when are you so soft?”

“Can you put aside the bitch-fit for when you come back? Right now you have to focus on getting in and out, okay?” I rolled my eyes.

“Fine. Keep me updated.”

“I told you I would.” I rolled my eyes again, clicking my line off.

I looked around to see Fitz-Simmons and May blinking at me, eyes wide.

“What?”

“I just, uh…” Fitz trailed off, scratching the back of his neck.

“We haven’t ever really seen you like that is all, love.” Jemma offered a sweet smile.

“Your brother’s back and you’re acting different. It’s sort of amusing.” May shrugged, the most truthful.

“Hey, Vi?” Grant’s voice was calm and quiet.

“What’s wrong?” I perked up.

“We’re gonna have to take on this next patrol. Skye better hurry it the hell up or we’re dead. Just thought you should know.” He whispered.

I sighed. “Be careful.”

“Always.” It was followed by a grunt, and then the sounds of an unfair fight.

I sighed and watched as May eyed the holotable nervously. Skye was still offline. A few grunts later, Grant sighed.

“Guys, clocks ticking. Where’s Skye?” Coulson came on.

The holotable clicked, and her compact connected.

“We’re in!” May shouted.

“She’s done it!” Jemma squealed.

“Leo, you’re up.” I took the bowl from him.

“Oh, Mother of all things. Move, move! Move!” He all but shoved May aside, tie flying as he ran.

His fingers danced over the holotable, and his eyes darted around as he licked his lips. He was scared to screw it up.

“Vi, tell Fitz to hurry. They’re onto us.” Grant growled.

“Fitz is going as fast as he can!” I shouted back.

“Fitz!” Coulson called.

“Saying his name repeatedly does not increase productivity!” Jemma yelled, getting them to back off.

“Okay, go!” Fitz jumped.

“Or maybe it does.” Jemma tilted her head.

“Grant! Move, now!” I watched the three second timer on the screen.

“System rebooting in two, one, now!” Fitz counted it off.

There was a grunt and then silence.

“Grant?” The rise and fall of my chest became frantic.

I really hoped my brother hadn’t gotten cut in half by a twenty foot laser fence.

“We’re in.”

I sighed, letting out a breath. May had gone back to her computer, following the trace of the dispatch that had leaked Hall’s location. Fitz pulled me into a hug. I hooked my arms around his middle and buried my face into his shoulder, ignoring the itching of his cardigan against my nose.

“Oh no.” May was louder than usual. “Coulson. The leak came from-”

“Dr. Hall. Yeah, I’m getting that.”

There was a yelp and a grunt, and then Coulson’s comm cut out.

“Grant?”

“I’m here.”

“Coulson’s out. We don’t know what happened. Keep moving, get Skye. We’ll keep you updated. Be careful.”

“Always.”

***

“Guys, we need to talk.” Coulson’s voice came over the comms.

“Lost you for a minute.” May sighed. “We’re aware of the problem, sir. Hall wanted Quinn to kidnap him?” She asked as we walked into the lab, where Fitz-Simmons were scrambling about.

“Yeah, why would he do that?” Fitz was disgruntled.

“What is wrong with him?” Jemma was distraught.

“Quinn built a gravity generator. Like the one we found but bigger. Hall knew Quinn would need him to control its raw power, but Hall just wanted to unleash it.”

“The one we found was only two point five centimeters in diameter. It stopped a semi.” Jemma shrugged.

“How big are we talking?” I asked.

“Twelve feet. It’ll definitely take down the entire compound.”

My heart clenched in my chest once more. Skye and Coulson were on there. And more importantly to me, Grant was on there. I had just gotten him back after eleven years. I couldn’t lose him to an element on the periodic table.

“It’ll sink the place!” Jemma was agitated.

“No, it’ll do more than that.” Fitz shook his head, working at something, tucking a screwdriver behind his ear.

“Work a solution. I’ll disconnect the power before things get … crazy.”

He was gone again.

“Vi.”

“What is it?” I asked, relief at hearing my brother’s voice.

“I don’t know where I’m going. I need you to pull up a map and talk me through this. Please.”

I only nodded. “Just a second.” I hit a few buttons on the holotable, bringing up the blueprint of Quinn’s mansion.

I took my comm out and tossed it to Fitz, who set the connection to the same as Coulson’s. Now we could all hear him, and he could hear all of us.

“Alright. This place is massive. Where am I heading?”

“Southwest corner.” May guided him. “Ward. Tell me you’ve got things covered on the ground. I can’t do a damn thing from out here.”

I caught a small gasp and perked up. It had come from Grant. I pulled up his vitals on the tablet next to me and saw that his heart rate went up. Something had happened that made him nervous.

“I’m working on it.” He replied.

We sat in silence, watching as the dot on the map that was Grant moved faster. Coulson’s comm clicked back on, and we could hear a loud whirring and a rumbling.

“... future generations ruined in his wake!” Hall’s voice was agitated.

“Like agents Fitz and Simmons, your former students? I’ve got them in my ear right now, telling me you’re not a bad guy. We could’ve worked with you on this.”

There was a crashing noise, and Fitz tensed in his seat.

“S.H.I.E.L.D.? S.H.I.E.L.D. is just as guilty of the same thing! Experimentation without a thought of consequence! Your search for an unlimited power source brought an alien invasion!”

“Fair point.” Coulson only sighed.

There was another crashing noise, and Coulson’s comm finally gave out. May cursed loudly, and Jemma put her hands back to her neck.

“She’s not here!” Grant screamed.

We paused.

“Grant, the pool.”

“What?”

“There’s a pool by the window. She must’ve jumped. She’s probably out in the front!”

“Are you sure?”

“Grant! We tag-teamed! Stop doubting me and listen!” I groaned, balling my hands in frustration.

He muttered a reply that I ignored. His dot was beelining down the steps and out into the main lot. He must’ve been sprinting. He reached the spot and took a deep breath. I braced myself, knowing what was coming. There were grunts and shouts, and the cracking of bones. Grant winced, but was quick to regain another breath and keep fighting.

When he finished, I could hear his breathing, along with Skye’s, which was even more frantic.

“You hurt? Follow my orders. I’ll get us out of here.” He was gone again.

Coulson’s line came back on, staticky. “Nothing. Fitz-Simmons? I tried to cut the power. It’s still going.”

Fitz-Simmons blurted out too many words at the same time, and the only thing I understood was ‘catalyst’.

“Something to create a chemical reaction in the core.” Jemma explained.

“It’s not too late to do the right thing! Help me find a catalyst-”

“I am doing the right thing. A completely selfless act. I know that history never celebrates what didn’t happen. They’ll call this a-a tragedy. They won’t understand the good I did here.”

“Vi?” Grant came on. “We’ve almost got Coulson.”

“Can you get him out?”

“Not yet. We need another minute or two.”

“You don’t have that long.” Fitz jumped in, looking at me with concern.

“Killing innocent people?”

“Saving millions. We have to live with the choices we make, but sometimes we have to die with them too.”

“I understand. You made a hard call… and now I have to make mine.” Coulson clicked his comm off, but we still heard the gunshots through Grant’s.

“Alright, we’re in.”

***

Fitz-Simmons hadn’t taken the news well. Coulson had been the one to explain what happened. He shot the glass, and Dr. Hall got sucked into the gravitonium. He was gone. They were devastated, frustrated, and overall upset. Jemma had made a tea and fallen asleep on the couch, where Grant wordlessly draped a blanket over her and shot me a look when I smiled at him.

Fitz was in the bathroom, showering. He had left the door cracked open, and I got the feeling it was to reassure me that he was okay. The water shut off, and he got dressed rather quickly, coming out of the bathroom in boxers and nothing else. His hair had obviously been towel-dried, and he hadn’t bothered to fix it. He gave me a soft smile as he sat next to me.

“Hi angel face.” I whispered, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek.

“I love you.” He mumbled, wrapping me in his arms and dropping his head against my shoulder.

He was exhausted, and I couldn’t blame him. I ran my fingers through his damp hair and wrapped my arm around his shoulders, tracing shapes onto his bare skin.

“I love you too. Why don’t you try to sleep, Leo?” I asked once he pulled back, wiping at his eyes.

“Stay with me?” He gave me puppy eyes and jutted out his bottom lip. I couldn’t tell whether it was intentional or not.

I smiled and leaned forward, grabbing him by the cheeks and pulling him to me so I could kiss his pouty lips. “Always.”

He slid down under the covers and let me get settled against the headboard. I sat with my legs crossed. He rolled over and dropped his head into my lap, laying on his side and pulling the blankets up to his chin. I threaded my hand in his hair, tugging gently at the curls to untangle them. He sighed, content. My hand started to work by itself, long after his hair was close to dry and he was breathing steadily, asleep.

Skye had gone downstairs to work on her punches, and Grant had gone straight for the shower. I sat in the bed, fingers still mindlessly combing through Fitz’s hair. I hadn’t been the one to lose a mentor, and I hadn’t been the one with a gun up to my face, but I was still tired, and now emotionally drained. There was a knock on my door.

“Come in.” I mumbled, eyes focused on a spot on the wall.

“Hey, ducky. How ya doing?”

I shrugged, watching as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“I’ve had better days.”

He nodded. “I’m gonna go check on Skye. Wanna come?”

I nodded, working Fitz’s head off my lap and onto a pillow. I took Grant’s hand the moment he outstretched it. We walked in silence, and it was peaceful. We didn’t have to verbalize what we wanted to say to each other, we just knew what the other was thinking. It was all I’m sorry’s and I love you to death, please don’t forget that’s and I’m glad you’re alive’s. He went down the stairs first, sitting down and letting me lean onto him.

“Where’d you guys grow up?” Skye asked through a grunt.

“Massachusetts, mostly.” I answered.

“A house?” She asked again.

“You didn’t?” Grant cocked his head.

She stopped the bag, holding it steady as she panted. “One house.” She grabbed a water bottle and walked to our side. “The Brody’s. I was nine. Sent me back to St. Agnes after a month. Said I wasn’t a good fit.”

“Foster parents.” Grant deduced. “Your first?”

She scoffed. “My third. I had heard it before, but… this one was different.”

“‘Cause you wanted them to like you.” I spoke in a hushed tone.

She looked up and nodded. “Bad.”

Grant sighed and she looked back down, sniffling. I looked down to my brother. He gave my knee a squeeze.

“I called her mom once… tried it out.” She shrugged and sighed. “Guess it wasn’t a good fit.”

She shook herself off and returned to the bag. “Hoping for something and losing it? Hurts more than never hoping for anything.”

Grant and I exchanged looks.

She needs reassurance that we won’t leave her. She’s got trust issues.

Grant nodded and we got up wordlessly, each putting weight against the bag so she could have a more solid stance.

“We won’t turn our backs.” He spoke first.

“Doesn’t matter.” She took another punch. “I made my choice. I want this.” Another three punches. “Bad.”

“Well, good. Because you fit in. We like you. You’re a buffer, and a smart one.” I smiled, letting Grant put his full weight against the bag so I could take the pressure off my leg.

She looked at me with a grin. “And I know there’s a truth serum.”

Grant and I only looked at each other once again, each laughing.

“Whatever you say, rookie.”

#leopold fitz #leopold fitz x reader #grant ward x reader #grant ward x oc #agents of shield #agents of shield imagine #fitz #leo fitz #grant ward #leo fitz x reader #leo fitz x oc #grant ward x sister!reader #grant ward x sister!oc #micaelawrites #my posts #my writing #micwrites

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travllingbunny · 5 years

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AoS rewatch: 1x06 FZZT

And with this, we start that season 1 thing with spelling words in titles as if they were acronyms, though this one is only typed in capital letters but without the periods, unlike T.R.A.C.K.S.

This is the best episode of the first part of season 1, in spite of being one of the few that have no elements of the overall storyline. If all the early season 1 episodes were like this, no one would be saying anything against pre-Winter Soldier season 1. The standalone story is a great one, and it is full of important character moments and character development, Especially for Simmons and Fitz, and their relationship. This is where they stop being just comic relief supporting characters and become fully fledged characters.

Simmons later had a lot of inconsistent writing, but her characterization in this episode is perfect. It’s certainly one of her best episodes ever. We see everything from her rationality and scientific curiosity which can sometimes sound a bit creepy (”So sad a man died this way…and yet, so amazing.“), her determination and her courage and willingness to spare the others the responsibility to sacrifice her, by sacrificing herself to save everyone.

And it’s the first great FitzSimmons episode – where their relationship is in the focus and the heart of the story. There’s a lot of fun bickering, as there always is, but then we also get to see how much they mean to each other, how much Fitz is willing to risk for Jemma, and we get the first hints he may be feeling something romantic for her.

One of the differences between Fitz and Jemma is how much is Fitz is grossed out by things like dead bodies (or needles stuck into eyes, as in 1x04) while Simmons is cool and unaffected by them (but if she weren’t, it would be hard for her to do her job). I relate to Fitz in this case.

Simmons taunts him that he’s „afraid“ of a dead body, which angers him and he protests that he’s not afraid, just disgusted. Later, she says he was too afraid to go into the field. But when it comes to saving Simmons, Fitz is later completely unafraid to get into the lab with her and risk getting infected himself, and later wanted to jump off a plane to save her.

But before that, at the beginning of the episode, Fitz’ little crush on Skye gets its swan song as he makes a terrible attempt at hitting at her, which she doesn’t even register. She’s too busy talking about her problems with Ward – who has been ignoring her - and comparing him to her ex-boyfriend Miles, and she also has noticed the FitzSimmons chemistry before either of them have, pointing out that they are „psychically linked“. She has always been the world’s biggest FitzSimmons shipper.

Speaking of which, the ship name itself is again spoken in canon: just like the doc in the Pilot, Coulson refers to them as a single unit, „FitzSimmons“.

Fitz and Simmons’ impersonations of Ward are both terrible. Why do they make him sound like Edward James Olmos?

The only thing that feels out of place in this episode is May’s interrogation of one of the witnesses, who’s a little boy. It’s a humorous scene where she offers him a cookie, but looks completely intimidating while doing it. This doesn’t really make sense, as we know that May can be softer, and we now know that she is usually very caring with children. And scaring an already traumatized child shouldn’t be funny.

Indeed, Skye, I’m also shocked that neither Coulson nor Ward are familiar with The Big Lebowski. Well, actually, I’m not at all shocked that Ward hasn’t.

Foreshadowing: Ward: „Everyone looks clean on the first go round. Dig deeper“

At this point, I’m not sure if Ward is really still angry at Skye (I did believe he really was in 1x05, but only because he was jealous of Miles), or if he thinks that he now needs to continue his performance of being a strict, loyal SHIELD agent angered by Skye’s Rising Tide allegiance.

It’s a testament to how good this episode is, that it succeeds in making you feel for Diaz, the firefighter about to die, a minor character who’s only been on screen for a couple of minutes. The writing and the acting is really good. This episode’s plot is so sad, because the victims are people who were heroes helping and saving others, and they died as an indirect result of that. It’s also possibly the only episode where the team isn’t dealing with any villains who intentionally caused this, but a virus and an accidental infection.

This is also one of the best episodes for Coulson. The scene where he stays with the dying firefighter as long as he can, to make it easier for him, telling him about his own death experience, is really beautiful. (We never find out if what he told him was true, or just something he said to make him feel better.) He cut off the comm with May when she tried to warn him to leave. He does something similar later when he pretends that he lost communications with Blake, because he has no intention of following the order to dump Simmons into the ocean, instead of hoping and believing that she will find the antiserum. And he openly defies Blake and the superiors’ orders at the end of the episode, even replying „Let them try“ when he’s threatened with SHIELD taking the team away from him. (I don’t know how Fury felt about Coulson disobeying his orders – but maybe he liked it, because, after all, he also disobeyed orders that he deemed to be stupid ass orders, like being told to bomb New York.) In spite of the many ways in which the later seasons improved the show, one of the things I’m sad about is that this humane, always compassionate season 1 Coulson was kind of lost, as he became darker and angrier, prone to keeping secrets even from his team, and occasionally too obsessed with revenge.

When watching Ward in these early episodes, the question constantly arises, what is real and what is fake. The speech he gives to Skye, about feeling helpless that he cannot protect his team members from someone, a superpowered psychopath, it is a part of his performance, but is there maybe some grain of truth in it? The best lies are usually those that have a bit of truth in them – an actor needs to find something to relate to give a better performance. Ward was deceiving and manipulating everyone, but at the same time, we know he did develop some feelings for at least some of his teammates. Not just romantic feelings for Skye, but it’s also canon (at least since 3x09) that he projected his little brother into Fitz. The same episode hinted he may have seen Simmons as a sister figure. (I personally believe that he projected his family on the team, which also explains his later negative feelings for them.) And he definitely has a hero complex and wants people to see him as a protector (whether or not this fits with the reality), this is how he defines himself and his worth – it’s one of the constants of his characters throughout the show.

First mention and appearance of Titus Welliver as Agent Felix Blake

We find out that FitzSimmons have never even passed their field assessments.

So many defining FitzSimmons moments. FitzSimmons sitting on the different sides of the lab door, separated.

That moment. That moment when they are arguing and Fitz starts saying that she has been always by his side, that they’ve spent every moment together (“You’ve been beside me the whole damn time!”) – and his face changes. That’s when he realizes just how much Simmons means to him. And it’s the moment when so many fans started shipping FitzSimmons.

It’s right after that he went into the lab with her to do everything to help her find a way to save herself „We’re gonna fix this together“

Fitz desperately yelling: „JEMMA!“ - I’m pretty sure that’s the first time on the show he has called her by her first name.

Going by what we’ve seen so far – countries SHIELD has offices in include Morocco and China, but apparently not Peru or Belarus (and, going by 4x14, no office in Russia, either).

I love the way Simmons corrects Ward about his imitation of her bad imitation of him.

Aw, the Skye-Simmons hug was sweet. The Bus Kids friendship was one of the things that the show developed very convincingly from the start, in a relatively small number of episodes.

In the ongoing story of Coulson worrying about his earlier death and comeback, he has ordered his own physical exam. This is so far the most tender May/Coulson scene, and the tenderest May has been in the show. (And I bet the writers were being intentionally naughty and ship-teasing when they put the„Take off your shirt“ line in there.)

The last scene, where Fitz is unhappy and a bit jealous that he didn’t get to save Simmons from jumping, but Ward did instead (don’t worry, Fitz, Ward had a much better chance of succeeding there, let everyone play to their strengths), and Simmons reassures him that he was the one who did most to help and save her, being there with her in the lab, and gives him a cheek kiss… if Fitz didn’t realize before that his feelings for Jemma may be romantic, he is definitely starting to understand it here, going by that last shot of him, deep in thoughts.

#aosrewatch #aosrewatchS1 #aos rewatch #agents of shield #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.#aos season 1 #fzzt #aos 1x06

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vanchlo · 7 years

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The Assistant / Chapter Nineteen, “Twist”

Hiiiiiii omg hey hey!!!! I’m so happy to be back, hope you don’t hate me too much :/ Ok first I reaaaaaally need to talk about Dunkirk like holy!!! Shit!!!! Harry was so good and the movie was awesome and just wow!! Haha cringe but if you haven't seen it yet, you have to! You’ll love it! Sooooo I'm sorry I've been gone so long, this story has been a super tough spot for me for a long time now, I've just been so busy with life. My inspiration and interest in writing this story hasn’t been there tbh :/ But I found a little recently and turned this bad boy out! Also you can totally thank my awesome bf for trying to kick butt into gear to get writing lol he's been the best and so motivating and even more so super supportive. I really hope that you love it and that it's not too rusty.....So be easy on me plz. But let me know what you think plz! Hopefully I'll be back soon with some more! Thanks to those who have stuck around and also a big thanks to those who have sent me the sweetest messages! I’m sorry I'm so bad at replying :/ but please know that they mean the world to me!!!!! Enjoy and have a great day!

Catch up on old chapters here!

Ding.

Stop.

My thumbs flit back and forth tapping on letters as a soft whir of the elevator doors open and somebody steps on. My attention doesn’t waver until something seems off when I notice the awkward silence, and something stops altogether when I look over to notice a pair of black leather lace up combat boots. Stopped in their tracks.

A weird bubbly feeling seeps out of nowhere as I feel myself in some kind of slow motion shit. Lifting my head, I chance a take at the stranger in front of me. It’s a fast first look that ends in me looking back to my phone. But when the doors come back together and the hum of the moving elevator returns, the crazy image before me flashes in my mind and that uneasy bubbly feeling only gets worse. Braving myself, I look back up again to find them leaning against the wall by the control panel thing.

No.

You have to be kidding me.

Words begin to form on my lips, but with every parting of my lips doubt coats them heavy and hard. And I close them, laden with uncertainty and hesitation. Instead, my arms stay coiled around him tightly, rubbing warm round circles into the middle of his back because that’s the best that I can reach. And it’s the best that I can do. His pained breaths hit the side of my neck fast and nervous as tears accompany them now and again, and with each one my heart clenches. I wish I knew what to do for him, what the right words are that would stitch him up and ditch the pain. But I don’t. I don’t even know what the fuck just happened or who the hell that was, so how the heck am I supposed to know how to fix this when I don’t know what I’d be fixing.

The sense of urgency pounding in my chest only intensifies when his hands hold onto the back of my shirt tighter, balling up the perfectly ironed fabric with a twist into his clammy palms. Well so much for spending half a fucking hour haphazardly ironing it in a rush this morning. His hiccups return and I swear it only makes me feel worse, and like I can’t help no matter what words pop into my head. My head that is resting against his as he keeps his tucked into my neck. Fuck me.

Before I know it, letters and syllables are falling from my lips like raindrops from the sky on a day where the forecast doesn’t call for rain. “W-who was that, Harry? Is everything ok?” I ask, and mentally curse myself not even two seconds later when I realize I asked the one question you don’t ask when somebody is upset, or well for instance sobbing into your neck. Because no matter what, nobody will ever answer it honestly and I always secretly fear that it just makes them feel worse.

He remains silent except for the sputtered sob here and there, and the occasional hiccup. And so my arms remain around him and my hands continue to run across his tense back. My bitten fingernails with chipped ‘French Kiss’ nail polish are lightly scratching through the silky fabric of his shirt when he yanks away from me and steps away to the window with his back to me, without even a glimpse of his distraught tear-stained face. It feels like when you rip a bandaid off scared and fast, the pain sudden and only for a second, but it doesn’t make it any better. His name leaves my lips in a hurry as his figure resembles a statue in front of me, but he doesn’t hear me or he pretends like he doesn’t. What the fuc-

“Leave.”

“What?” I almost gasp, my head nearly spinning from how fast I just got pulled off my feet.

“Just get out of here,” he retorts, his voice still uneasy but guarded with ice.

I hardly am able to spit out his name and a few words about wanting to help, when he cuts me off, “I don’t want you, Becks, s-so get out!” He roars, his voice nearly echoing off of the walls of his dreary office. “Go!”

I gulp, but it’s dry as I feel the warmth rise to my cheeks while his blow resonates with the rest of my body. With a hard set jaw and my fists clenched, I make my decision but not soon enough because he makes one too and so he turns around. Within an instant, his rigid cold features melt into sadness and regret when they see mine, but because I only made my decision a millisecond after he made his I only see a glimpse of his face before I'm flinging open his door. My name carries down the hall in his husky voice, but my feet keep going until I'm at my desk. Within five seconds, my laptop and the brown file next to it are tucked under my arm and I'm flying down the floor until I reach my destination.

A push here and a few steps there with some dings and a wait, I arrive in a dingey cloud and a few seconds later on the plastic wrapped couch. Toeing off my heels, I toss them carelessly and wipe off the dust before settling onto the only open patch of red leather amid the scuffed plastic. Prying open the laptop, I open up the checklist and tick off a thing or two before looking over the last two things.

As I open up a new Word document, I reach my hand down with a struggle and feel under the bottom until I come across the crinkly plastic. I pull out the bag of cookies I left here the last time I came up to the abandoned floor in the middle of construction. With a sweet cinnamony cookie melting on my tongue, I frantically type up notes from the file sitting open right next to me so I can get this shit done and get out of here for the weekend.

And away from him, again.

I reach my hand into the small bag once again and play a frown when I only touch air. Huffing, I crinkle it up and toss it to the side before my attention is taken away by a ding. With hesitation knotted in my movements, I slowly turn back to my laptop and am relieved to find it’s just an email from a client, and not from Harry. As I'm reading the bloke’s words, another ding pricks my ears and I'm afraid again to know where it’s coming from and why.

The gleaming metal doors of the elevator slowly draw apart and the ramming in my chest halts when a head of blonde hair peeks out instead of one of brunette. As he steps off and onto the floor, his eyes dart to me and thin with confusion before his pink lips part, “Hey, it looks you’ve found my secret spot,” Asher quips with a slight smile before he plops down onto an armchair across from me.

“No, I think you’ve found my secret spot,” I say with a wink and he drops a small laugh as he grins across from me.

It doesn’t look right. It doesn’t feel right. It all seems wrong, in the way that it feels and in the way that it looks. I can’t do this. What the hell was I thinking? This is terrible. I can’t believe I thought that this was a good idea.

“Ugh, this looks so bad,” I groan through my teeth as I stare at my reflection in the smudged oval mirror in Skye and I’s bathroom, as I once again drag the eyeshadow brush along my lower lash line to try and blend out this godawful black shadow.

With a huff, I drop the brush back with the others into the yellow mug on the counter with a clink. I slap my palms down onto the counter, resting my weight on them as I stare at my work in the mirror. And this is why I didn’t go to university for cosmetology, I think to myself as I note the harsh lines and patchy contour. Oh fricken well, maybe nobody will really notice in the dark.

“Your bloody phone won’t stop going off, would you grab it already?!” Skye shouts at me from the living room.

“Chill your tits!” I call back with a small giggle as I cross the room to the small couch opposite of her to pick up my phone. Hmm, just Robbie and Asher.

“Oooo la la, would you look at you?” Skye teases as I scroll through my phone.

“How bad does it look? Be honest.”

“Not bad at all. You did a better job than most girls who try to pull that character off, but they all just go for the boobs and end up looking like tramps,” she replies nonchalantly, chewing on a pretzel as her eyes stay on the tv that Freddy Krueger’s scratchy voice has been echoing out off all day. Her eyes meet mine at the end of her sentence and she gives me a small smile, before they drift away somewhere else. “Now move that bloody tush of yours, it’s almost eight, Beck, you’ll be late.”

“There’s no set time I have to be there by, Skye,” I laugh.

“Yeah, but that certain coworker of yours is expecting you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I quip, plopping onto the couch deciding to pass some time watching the end of this movie. Whichever one it is in the series.

“Oh like I need to tell you! It’s quite obvious from all that you say about him and from the other day when I stopped by for lunch that Asher fancies you, Beck.”

“Nah ah, we’re just friends, Skye.”

“Yeah that’s what you think,” she winks, popping another pretzel between her lips before she flings her hoodie over her head to complete her lazy attire of gray sweats and a black hoodie. I deal back a ‘whatever’ as she gloats with a grin, the warm glow of the candles settled around the room only fueling her fiery but lazy image.

I steal the pretzels bag from the coffee table in front of her, settling back against the squishy gray cushions before settling my eyes on the tv with a pretzel in between my fingers. The warm orange braided blanket forgotten at my side begs me to wrap it around myself and forget about my plans tonight, and to just spend the night in with Skye surrounded by burning candles smelling like caramel and apples and cinnamon while watching the scary movie marathons on tv.

With the blanket snugly around my shoulders, I forget my plans for a while and catch the rest of the movie with Skye. Not long after a text from Asher rouses me and I grab my stuff to step out into the nippy Fall night.

Disco-esque lights and opaque fog float around me as I worm past people in the middle of the floor, but when I lift my head I look around hoping to see his face. I think I see a flash of his chocolate locks, but it was just some guy wearing a 70′s wig. My attention is scattered when I see a hand waving at me, and I realize that hand belongs to my friend. A giggle erupts from my lips as I walk up to him and lay my eyes on his costume.

“Wow really, Star Wars?”

“I bet you don’t even know who I am, so you can’t hate,” he replies with red cheeks and a twitchy smile as I stop in front of him. My eyes run over the baggy brown outfit with a long black leather vest cinched around his waist and a blocky belt. As if that isn’t bad enough, I almost lose it when I see the fake mini braid laying on his shoulder. “You probably only know it’s Star Wars because of the lightsaber,” he adds on, poking a finger in my direction as I eye up the blue toy attached to his side.

“Sure, if you say so. Now, where’s the food and drinks?” I reply, casting my attention elsewhere as I clack my nails a dark shade of red together, trying to pull off the look some more. Soon enough his hands cup my shoulders and steer me through the light crowd of people to the long table towards the back wall made almost entirely of windows. Wow they almost outdid themselves.

“I’m glad to see you too,” Asher laughs as I grab a blue plastic cup from the stack at the beginning of the table, Skye’s remarks from earlier floating back up as a blue vodka mix sloshes into my cup from the bottle in my hand.

I flash him a nervous smile before taking a big gulp followed by a wince at the strength of the alcohol. A giggly comment from buzzed Asher leads me to grab the liter of lemon lime soda to toss in with the vodka. I don’t want to get too drunk tonight. I don’t think these idiots here are worth getting drunk with.

My thoughts jump to the dishes of food in front of us, the bags of crisps and platters of desserts. And with that, some well-intentioned joke from Asher is the last thing I register before I’m loading my plate high.

A cup or two and too much alcohol induced laughing later, Ash and I are stuck in a corner with our bellies filled to the brim. And no thought of moving in sight.

“Oh come on, you don’t even have a guess!” he squints at me, as if he can see much in this room lacking lights except for the cringey strobe light thing going on and the wimpy skeleton lights hanging from the ceiling. The bass from a tricked out modern remix of The Monster Mash thumps in my ears as I blink, my eyes heavy with a floaty feeling that’s just begun to coat the rest of my body.

“All I know is that you’re Star Wars,” I say and apparently he finds it really funny with the chuckle making its way past his lips, before he takes another sip of his whiskey mixed with coke.

“Have you ever even seen those movies?” he sighs, throwing his hands up in defeat before wagging his finger at me. “I swear to God if you say no, Becky.”

“I’m sorry, man. Star Wars was my brother’s thing, and whenever he would watch them I could never get into them. They’re too confusing and there’s too much going on in them,” I reply with a shake of my head, but it doesn’t help the sleepy-dizzy feeling taking over my body as I bring the cup back to my lips.

“I’m Anakin Skywalker, you idiot. You know, Darth Vader? You at least have to know who that is,” he remarks with a shake of his gelled back head as he pushes off of the floor with his hand to get up. It’s wobbly, but he does it with a small wave and a comment about how the whiskey went through him like a bullet before taking off towards the bathrooms.

I resort to my phone and the dwindling bottle of water at my side, remembering that I have to drive home and that if things turned out to be lame I wasn’t planning to stay that long.

I don’t know how, but I hardly notice that after twenty-two minutes Ash still isn’t back. When I get to my feet after a little bit of struggling, I catch his mini braid and gelled back hair a few crowds over as I walk by. And by crowds I mean ‘little groupings of maybe five people talking’ which makes me feel like high school all over again with the cliques. The thing you don’t realize about becoming an adult is that the cliques don’t go away, fucking unfortunately.

Weaving my way through my dreaded co-workers, I toss my trash and grab another water bottle before heading to the bathroom cursing myself for drinking that other bottle so damn fast. With perfume clogging my nose, I step up to the sinks and peek a look in the mirror as I wash my hands. My sallow carved cheeks, pasty skin and satin red lips don’t look so bad surprisingly and so I leave with the makeup banging against my side in my purse, hoping nobody will notice.

With a float here and a float there, and a forced conversation and a not so forced convo there, I snatch a small bag of crisps and shove them into my purse before crossing the room. A buzz sounds from my purse as I stab my finger at the down arrow in front of me, and I pull it out to find a notification staring back at me.

how’s the party going?!

did blondie lay a big one on you yet?!

I bite my lip with a roll of my eyes as Skye’s words float in my head. As there’s a ding from in front of me, I move my feet ahead. My back meets a metal bar and I lean as my thumbs dart across the screen replying to her.

Oh stop it! He doesn’t like me, and he totally

ditched me anyways, so I’m leaving. I’ll be

home soon pro-

Ding.

Stop.

No.

You have to be kidding me.

Nope.

Fuck.

Forgetting my phone, I stuff it in my purse and don’t care to close it as my eyes are glued to him. And all of the black and white.

Before I can stop myself, the alcohol goes ahead and I’m talking.

“Wow, how original,” I quip, unsure of how much sarcasm is in my voice. But I’m feeling real about how much he doesn’t deserve it.

“And yer costume ‘s any betta’?”

“At least mine looks good,” I reply, feeling the need to put my hands on my hips but then I’m reminded of those vodkas and I straighten up. Or try to.

A ‘pft’ is spat from his pasty lips half worn of the white paint doused on the rest of his face and down his strong neck. “Whateva,” he remarks, shaking his head of teased dirty green hair sticking out in all directions.

I try to stop myself, but my eyes drop down to the wrinkly white button down hugging his upper half hidden by the white and black striped blazer slung around him. Dark violet paint surrounds his eyes that stay glued to the screen of his phone he taps away on, that’s only paused to yank at the plain black tie sagging around his neck. As my eyes fall all over him, warmth fills my cheeks and does something to the old ticker deep down in my chest.

I blame it on the vodka.

“At least ya bloody know who I am.”

“Oh fuck off, Harry,” I retort, my face creasing in annoyance that only grows when I notice his lips turned up in a cocky smirk.

But they fall and so do mine when a loud crickety noise sounds from the doors in front of us before the elevator slows to a bumpy halt. The lights above us flick off, but they return a few seconds later although dimmed.

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I groan, slapping my hands at my sides and stomping forward to smack at the buttons.

“They’re not gonn’ work,” he says, right as they don’t do anything no matter how hard I hit them.

“I know that!”

“Then why’re ya bloody stabbin’ at ‘em?!” he replies, annoyed. Oh boy, you don’t even know.

“I don’t know, okay?!” I turn around and yell at him, stalking back off to my corner where I slide down the metal wall and onto my ass.

Harry mutters some curse words under his breath as he takes his phone back out, aggressively doing something on it before putting it to his ear. A little short of a minute of yelling and a ‘fuck’ here and there, he shoves his phone back into his pocket. God dammit that odd ass warmth and butterflies in my stomach feeling can go away any time now.

“They’re dispatchin’ somebudy soon t’ come an’ fix it. It might be a good half hour, tho’,” he tells me softly as his hands slide into his pockets and those godawful green eyes settle on me. No matter how soft and balanced his voice is, I can’t ignore how hesitant and annoyed it sounds to be speaking to me.

Out of nowhere, a switch flips inside of me and hard laughter bubbles from my lips. And I can’t stop. No matter how hard I try. And somehow it only gets worse when his eyebrows knit together with the most confused expression ever. But it slowly melts into a giddy smile that causes some kind of fucking avalanche in my chest.

God dammit, could this get any worse.

“Bloody hell, Becks, how much ‘ave ya had t’ drink tonight?”

“Not even two cups,” I manage to get out in the midst of my never ending belly laughing, but I feel like that only makes it sound like I’m talking shit. And with the look on Harry’s face, he doesn’t believe a word that just came out of my mouth. “I swear!”

“I don’ believe ya, Becks,” he giggles back, eyebrows quirking down as he stares at me before asking me ‘what’s so damn funny’?

“You. Look at you,” I take a little longer than normal to get out in the middle of pointing at his get up, which makes him look himself up and down. “You’re fricken Beetlejuice w-with green hair!” I say before collapsing into myself from the laughter, resorting to hugging my knees.

“I look damn good, I reckon,” he answers, but it only makes the laughing worse.

I don’t know why or how, but when I look up and we meet eyes again he bursts out laughing too. Hard. So hard. Just as hard as me. And for some reason, we can’t stop belly laughing as we stare at each other making comments about the white paint coated on each other’s faces and how bad our makeup looks and why we didn’t just go with something simpler.

“C’mon, Becks! Who tha bloody hell ‘s gonn’ know who yer s’posed t’ be?!” he giggles, pointing at me.

“It’s not that bad, is it?” I laugh back, which somehow only makes him laugh harder.

“No no, don’ ge’mme wrong, but who’s gonn’ know that yer Morticia Addams from tha bloody Addams Family?!”

“Well, you do!” I reply, and he slaps his knee as his eyes crinkle with another round.

“Tha’s cuz ya told me, ya goon! Bloody hell,” his words dissolve into another laugh as he drags his feet over and slumps down to take a seat next to me.

“My bad,” I say with a wave of my hand, before almost choking from a cough as my body threats to give up on me if I don’t stop laughing.

Instead of laughing together, we cough together as his long legs splay out in front of him and my long black dress touches the edge of him. I gulp down some of my water before passing it to him and tipping my head back to take a second.

Uncomfortable silence fills the air as I stare at the mirrored ceiling watching him chug some of the water before he caps it and checks his phone. Tipping my head to the side, I look around awkwardly as neither of us says anything.

Our attention is snagged by our phones as I text with Skye recounting the awkward ass situation and Harry taps away on his phone next to me, the bag of crisps open in between us with a crinkle here and a crinkle there. Before we know it, the elevator doors part open with Jennings and some other important guys standing on the other side to help us out.

I feel out of place standing around as they talk business shit and Harry gets mad about the elevator. Feeling that our moment ended long ago, I thank them before trotting off to the stairs on this side of seventeen because no way in hell am I using an elevator for another week.

“Hey, where ya goin’ so fast?” he rasps from behind me and I turn around to find Harry hot on my heels in the empty hallway. The music pounding from a few thousand feet away.

“Uh, home.”

“Oh,” he says simply, and something in me is tipped off that his voice holds something like disappointment. But I don’t want to go there. Nowhere even close. This has been too much already, and my head is spinning in more ways than one.

I weigh my options in my head, but that only lasts a split second before I whip back around making my way for the stairs. But I can’t. And so I stop. And spin around to find his eyes float over to me a second later.

“I thought you weren’t coming tonight.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t,” Harry replies with something carried in his voice. But an alarm goes off in my head not to keep going because all it ever gets me is hurt. And I’m trying not to do the caring that leads to the hurting. “But plans changed.”

I nod and with that, I bid him a goodnight and go for the stairs without letting myself stop, or even look back. Because know if I do, it won’t be good. Caring about him has never gotten me anywhere good. And I’m trying my damn hardest to stop caring.

But I can’t. And I don’t know if I want to stop.

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florchis · 7 years

Note

May and Daisy + 2. “You’re too young to hate the world.”

First of all, thank you for this lovely prompt, and I’m sorry it took me so long. I never knew I could enjoy writing May so much and I really loved writing it. So thank you.

I’m sorry if you wanted something more S4-ish, but my mind went straight to early S2. So, this is pure ol’ May and her ducklings.

Warnings: Anger/Anxiety issues related to PTSD, and the usual: things the characters blame themselves for =/= the things me or other characters blame them for. Due to the timeline, I refer to Daisy as “Skye” here.

[AO3]

All things considered, May is glad that she has something else to focus on other than her own anger and hurt and disappointment. She should have been the one to know better, she should have seen all the signs from a mile away; that was her job, to be the eyes of this team, and she failed.

She failed spectacularly.

The less she can do is push down her shame and her remorse and help fix the pieces of everything that got broken to the best of her capacity.

That’s why she does physical therapy with Fitz, and doesn’t get mad at him, no matter how much he gets mad at himself and lashes out at her instead as some form of self-preservation.

That’s why she told Phil to let Simmons go undercover. They worry about Fitz so much that sometimes they forget that Simmons was there too and has demons of her own to battle. She needs to process, yes, but she also needs to cope, and if she needs to leave in order to do that, they had to let her.

That’s why she trains Skye.

She has to give Ward credit: the girl has potential and he didn’t do a sloppy job on the physical training. But she doesn’t only need training to make her body stronger and better, she also needs it to make her emotional defenses stronger and better, and well, May can relate to that, and therefore no one better to train her.

(Or so Skye seems to think, and May lets her, because what good would it do to her to know the truth?)

Again: they are doing damage control with what little they have, and it feels sometimes like they have to let some things burn down just because they have bigger fires to put out.

Fitz’s shaking hands and his struggle with words are so blatantly obvious that sometimes May forgets about Simmons quietly panicking in the shower, and while she rubs dry shampoo on Jemma’s hair, she can’t take care of Skye beating her own hands to pulp against the punching bag.

There is only one her, and even though she knows this is all her fault, there is only so much she can do before she wants to take her own skin apart, and if she destroys herself she wouldn’t be able to be there for them the next day, and she is not going to do that.

May had given up the idea of children of her own a long time ago, because she thinks they are too soft and too pliant to be managed with her scarred hands; how did she end up anyway with this bunch of brave, traumatised, amazing kids that she needs to help so hard and for whom she feels responsible?

(And that is not even counting Phil going quietly out of his mind. May sometimes think that she should have retired while she could, but how could she, when all these people need her so much? It doesn’t matter that she can’t help them with the bigger things, the things that count; she is willing to put enough effort in the small things to make a difference.)

But she can’t do much more for Fitz than try to help him get better, and she can’t do much more for Simmons than let her go, and she can’t do much more for Phil than make him promises she is not sure she will be able to fulfill. But Skye wants more from her, Skye is avid for a hand to take her out of her misery and lead her somewhere her anger can be useful, Skye is desperate for someone to tell her that life can be okay despite the world dragging her down and people being shit.

May is not sure she can do all of that for her, be the defender of the optimism, use the it gets better slogan on her. Yes, she is the bearer of the show must go on concept, but anything else? It’s just not her style.

But one night, when it’s so late that it could be called early, and she is still in the kitchen sipping tea, Skye barges in, barefoot and with red-rimmed eyes, and May understands suddenly which card she should play, because, yes, she blames herself for a lot of what happened, but she has been so focused on them and what they need that she have been forgetting to hate herself for a long time. Skye startles a little when she sees her, and May makes a gesture to make her feel welcomed.

“Tea?”

Skye snorts.

“If it is the strongest thing we have, yeah, sure.”

May gets up and turns on the kettle before answering.

“It’s the strongest thing you can have. You have to be up in three hours for training.”

Skye sits down on the breakfast bar, and May notices that she is wearing a sweater that is too big for her.

“Thanks god. I would go out of my mind without training.”

That makes May stop, because she can see, clear as a picture, how high are the chances of Skye becoming just like her, and while there is no shame in doing your job well, and liking it, May still can remember the things she wanted and let go.

(Because there is nothing wrong in being addicted to your work if that is what you want, to be Jemma Simmons and have two PhD’s by the age of seventeen, but you have to choose it for yourself, not let a shitty life choose it for you.)

“What happened?”

Skye is on the defensive in two seconds flat, and May goes to her and takes her wrist, to show her the watch with her increasing pulsations, that speaks louder than a thousand words. She looks down at the floor, part ashamed and part upset, but May doesn’t let go of her wrist.

“Fitz and I had a fight, okay?”

Well, that explains a lot: both of them have taken both Fitz’s injury and Simmons’s absence to heart, the way they do almost everything. Skye feels uncomfortable by Fitz’s disability, and ashamed to feel that way, and hurt and angry at Simmons for leaving; Fitz is disappointed on himself, in war with the world, and in denial of Simmons’s leaving. Not even a miracle could have saved this of being an explosive cocktail.

“You and Fitz more or less fight all the time.” May points out while she goes to pour the water on the mugs. “What was different about this time?”

She can hear Skye sigh and she pointedly looks away to give her privacy to gather her thoughts.

“I usually try to carry on, you know that. Life is hard, I’m not the first person ever to have shitty things happen to them, and I won’t be the last. But sometimes it’s… harder somehow, you know? Because I have to go talk with the freaking traitor in our basement, and then I come back and Simmons is gone, and Fitz is not coping, like, at all, and the only ones keeping me slightly sane are you and Trip.” May doesn’t acknowledge the implicit gratitude, because she knows there is still more Skye needs to say, and she can’t be interrupted “They were my very first long-term friends, that truly liked me for what I am. They were my fundament out there in the field, when this insanity started, and now there is this chasm open between us. And it wasn’t supposed to be this way. It isn’t fair, and I don’t want it, and sometimes I can’t help but wonder if it wouldn’t have been better to not know them at all.”

May has a reputation to keep and, most important, she knows that she is being Skye’s support now, and she can’t fail her. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like hell, but the mug he puts in front of her is still warm and perfect tea, and her voice doesn’t falter when she talks, and that is something.

“There is a couple of things you need to know. First of all, life isn’t fair. If you were under the impression that this wasn’t true, change your mind now, because you are too young to hate the world already because it didn’t give you something that wasn’t promised in the first place.” There are unshed tears in the corners of Skye’s eyes, and May continues like she doesn’t see them. “Yes, they are amazing people, and so are you, and terrible things happened to all of you. You have to deal with it, because life is going on, with or without you. And there are also things that make all of this worth it. The single fact that you love them so much that this hurts this badly, doesn’t make everything worth it?”

Skye is full on crying now, and May doesn’t move from her side of the bar, she just stirs her tea in silence. Skye might need a lot of things from her, even some that May isn’t sure she can provide, but a hug right now is not one of them. She seems to feel better after a couple minutes of inhibited crying, and while she dries her eyes with the sleeve of the sweater, May pushes the mug closer to her. Skye takes it with shaking hands and takes a sloppy sip and pulls a face at the bitter taste, and only then May recognizes the sweater as Fitz’s. Poor boy, between Skye and Simmons, May is not sure he has enough clothes left to put on. Not that he would mind much, probably.

“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know if it’s worth everything.”

May nods.

“That’s okay. You don’t need to figure it out overnight or in a rush. But eventually you will have to, and then I want you to have thought about it. Remember, life isn’t fair, but that doesn’t mean that it only takes and takes and never gives you anything back.”

Send me some characters and a prompt and I’ll write you a drabble!

#unlessimwrongwhichyouknowimnot #aosficnet #buskidsnet #daisy x may #misformarch #mama may #may and her ducklings #ptsd tw #reply #my stuff #aos #bus kids #florchis writes things

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justanotherdumpingground · 5 years

Text

Chapter Reviews: April 9-13, 2019 + More Thoughts on WT and NB

High School Story Class Act Chapter 9:

By this point, I feel like I don’t enjoy Class Act as much as I wanted to. The presidential election drama is starting to drag me out, and Skye is sidelined because she didn’t get tangled up in this mess.

Anyway, it was really nice to see my old MC and his dad, the little poem for Skye was sweet, and seeing my MC and Skye watching Aiden’s concert while cuddling was adorable.

Even after Lorenzo gained a popularity boost for rescuing a kitten from a shocked Buttercup and Amber recording the entire thing, I’m still not fazed. Mainly because he’s still behind Rory, who has four stars compared to the three he and the twin have for each. Let’s see how it goes in future chapters.

Across the Void Chapter 17:

Wow! So Holmes is the one that gets injured. Well, that does it. I’m so glad I chose to remain neutral because the Jura general just sucks. I may not like Holmes, but he doesn’t deserve to get injured, though Kepler saying that he would never hurt anyone just made me shook my head.

If I can kick both Eos and Pax out of my ship, that would be great, though having them shut up and start acting maturely is good enough.

This chapter feels like a blink and it’s over. I installed the cryo atmos to bring the Atlas back to good condition, and I didn’t plan a party for Holmes, which would’ve improved crew morale. At least morale is still good. The only thing that keeps me interested is the possibility of who might be the Jura mole among the passengers. My best bet would be Rana because of her pro-Jura views. Other possibilities would be Adara and Leona, though they’re less likely to be the culprits.

Desire & Decorum Chapter 16:

On one hand, I like that Duke Richards gets a proper comeuppance (stripped from his title and holdings and locked away) unlike a certain villain. On the other hand, I’m rather disappointed that the evidence cabinet’s ultimate function is to determine the fates of Richards’s co-conspirators. Nevertheless, it was awesome to watch Luke Harper elevated to Knight Commander for stopping Richards. I think that’s a good way to allow players romancing him to marry him instead of being in a secret relationship with him. I also like that my MC gets to become Championess, yet another title for her to rub at Henrietta’s face alongside Countess of Edgewater.

Hamid’s proposal was the real cherry on the top of the cake, and I want him and MC to get married already. As for Dominique, I feel like I need some time before I can really forgive her. She may seem sincere, and she tried to redeem herself, but I still need to calm down about her. Maybe I’ll forgive her when I replay this book.

Great, another sequel hook. Just when I thought I could have my MC enjoy her wedding with Hamid, some stranger shows up unannounced. Apparently, this stranger is someone connected to Henrietta, who believed that person is dead. My guess is that the stranger is the MC’s half-brother Harry or Henrietta’s first husband (and Edmund’s father).

Overall, the second book is weaker than the first one while still okay. I love the formation of the inner circle and that the love interests, Briar, and the MC really look out for one another. Unfortunately, the love interests slowly lose their uniqueness while the getting out of the engagement with Duke Richards drags on for too long. I blame it on the writers resorting to clichés.

America’s Most Eligible Chapter 13:

A premium outerwear clothing looks good on paper, but it’s still a lure to spend diamonds just to see dialogue variations. Anyway, pass.

For the partner part, I still picked Adam because of how I roleplay my MC as. I may not like Adam completely, but I still have my MC pursue him because it fits his character.

So Wrenn is secretly leaking info to Piper, who thought Jen isn’t doing well. I’m conflicted on this. I know that this choice might affect Wrenn’s stance on me, but I also think they should be honest with Jen. In the end, I kept Wrenn’s secret while still considering the option to tell the truth to Jen in case I replay this book.

Dang, Carson has gone the deep end, hasn’t he? Just by looking at him spiraling into depression despite his best efforts to makes things fresh makes feel bad. Still pissed that it’s a premium option to console him, but it’s something I might do to bring him out of his shell.

Passport to Romance Chapter 5:

The Notre Dame trip is nice, though the recycled image from Rules of Engagement made me cringe. At least it was calming to see Ahmed lighting a candle as a reminder of how important the sense of community.

Hearing more about Marisa’s “boyfriend” Tristao just makes me want to punch him in the face and watch Marisa break up with him. It’s no secret she deserves better.

So far, I like the trip around the Catacombs in Paris, especially with Marisa expressing her fear of the dead. It was jarring to see Elliot chastising Ahmed and Sumire for making jokes about Marisa’s fear, and his premium scene implies that he lost someone or many people very dear to him. It didn’t endear him to me because he came across as a hypocrite for making a snide remark on Marisa during the dinner with Yvette. However, I think that as useless as Elliot is, he deserves to have his story told.

Not surprised that Yvette would extend the contract and keep the love interests together with the MC. After all, it would be a waste to get rid of the ones we have. Sure not everyone likes them, but it would be daft of PB to not develop them further.

I admit that I restarted the whole book to buy most premium scenes involving Sumire and not join Elliot in bouncing at Marie Antoinette’s bed. Interestingly, I managed to reach Level 2 for my blog and unlock a bonus scene, where I can talk about who viewers like, asking what they want to see, or thanking them for inspiring the blog. I picked what they want to see, and apparently, they want ambiance footage of Berlin, more Elliot and Ahmed, MC kissing those boys, and personal stuff. Well, my blog’s name is Sexcapades, so that might happen.

Open Heart Chapter 9:

That patient with Bryce Sterling's model is a total nightmare. His constant rudeness and belching gets on my nerves all the time. It's a good thing Ethan showed up to put him in his place.

The group dinner was nice, and I want Rafael included every now and then. Bonus points if he gives his perspective as a paramedic. I'll make him fit right into the inner circle in spite of his insecurities of not attending a prestigious university.

One thing I noticed is that Bryce mentioned attending a college as far away from home as possible. That sounds interesting, considering that he is consistently portayed as keeping a positive face. My best guess is that he had a rough childhood that strained his parents so much that he cut off ties with them once he's capable of taking care of himself. I'd like to know more about him, even if the story puts too much emphasis on Ethan.

Kyra as a love interest left me rather uneasy. I mean, I like her personality despite her cancer, but I don't think it's ethical for a doctor and a patient to date. Not sure how PB will handle this, so let's see how it goes.

MC is finally number one, which makes them a target of massive jealousy? I have a bad feeling about this. Aurora's sarcastic comment gives me the chills, which makes me think some of MC's roommates will contribute to unnecessary drama. I hope that's not the case.

Ride or Die Chapter 13:

Because I ended the previous chapter with my MC in the surveillance room with Jason and Foley, she ended up distracting them and saved the Mercy Park Crew. Talking about giving her badass moment, compared to the situation where she was locked in the vault with the Brotherhood.

Teppei choosing to sacrifice himself to let the Mercy Park Crew escape left me speechless, in part because he's a better written character than the other members of the MPC except Colt. I'm definitely mad at him for dragging the crew to his life, but seeing your own parent's death is always sad. In Colt's case, his father wanted him to live a normal, crime-free life, and it would be a waste for Colt to not honor his father's wish.

One quote that stands out to me the most is Mona asking the MC whether she wanted "freedom, fast cars, the bad boy", and that life, then said it's ultimately not for the MC. It sounds like Mona is saying that all these are mere delusions masking the dangers of being around criminals. Makes me think of the terrible first chapters. I still think the story's not that good despite improvements along the way.

Regarding Jason Shaw, I get that it's tempting for me to defend him because he goes after criminals, but I don't see that as a reason to praise him. I could say my feelings are complicated. As much as I understand that he has some sort of moral compass for going after criminals, I think he's addicted to freedom and power that he has lost sight of what his job ultimately means. Not to mention that it would've been better to hand those criminals to justice instead, and him threatening the MC comes across as hypocritical.

On another note, does anyone think Toby is rather suspicious? He seemed to be at the right place at the right time (telling the MC of Colt's operation, outside of the MPC garage when it burned down), and there were moments when he raised red flags that foreshadow something sinister (fixing MC's car, talking to someone during the party at a junk yard). I stumbled upon this theory on Instagram, and I wanted to know if anyone seems sold on it. If it's true Toby's up to no good, what if he was playing the Mercy Park Crew and Brotherhood all along?

The Elementalists Chapter 5:

I'm enjoying Book 2 so far, and this chapter on the nature of elemental sources was just fascinating. Learning about Alma the Blood source on the MC and Atlas's parents being elemental sources like her and Kane was fascinating. I think that's what makes the twins special in a way. And not to mention that I'm becoming more intrigued on Kane and Gemma as well as how the sources tie into the plot. What if we encounter the other sources? And how do the different races like wood nymphs and djinns factor into all this?

Man, I need to give Atlas a hug, considering the fact that they, unlike their twin sibling, wasn't raised in a loving environment when their parents died. It makes me wonder more of the events Atlas had to go through before meeting with their long-lost sibling.

I couldn't pass on the opportunity to learn the fire chariot spell from Griffin, especially if it might come in handy later on. Pity it's not included in the spell book, but at least it allowed my MC to score an easy win. Can't wait to use it on Kane and any other threat that gets in my way.

Thoughts on Wishful Thinking and Nightbound:

Honestly, I’m more excited for Nightbound than Wishful Thinking, mainly because I generally prefer fantasy and supernatural over romantic comedy. In Wishful Thinking’s case, I feel like it should’ve involved a crime-fighting element that makes it similar to Hero. After all, both stories are set in Northbridge. Thinking of it reminds me of Shazam, which I thoroughly enjoyed for its comedic style and serious moments that work well in the story. As for Nightbound, I may be more excited for it, but I’m still fairly wary that it will focus too much on a single male love interest that the entire story revolves around him. This has been going on for a lot of stories, so if the romance aspect is kept to a minimum like The Heist: Monaco, that would be a preferable while highly doubtful scenario.

#choices stories you play #chapter reviews #choices wishful thinking #choices nightbound #choices wt #choices nb

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