Archive of Our Own ^beta

“How do you know this?”

“I spoke to Ward,” Fitz admitted, holding his breath as he waited for Coulson’s response.

“We’ll talk about that when I get home. Nice work, Fitz.” Coulson ended the call and Fitz blew out the breath he’d been holding, before taking a couple deep breaths just to reassure himself that he still could. He turned away from the screen and absently flapped his bad hand as he paced around.

“You okay?” Mack asked. Fitz glanced at him and noticed that his eyebrows were furrowed in concern.

“Ward,” Fitz said. “It was him—the asset. I knew they were keepin’ things from me. I knew—I knew it was him. I knew it. Sim—I thought I was paranoid, but—it’s not—it’s not paranoia if they’re really out to get you, right?” Fitz laughed. A humorless, hysterical laugh.

“Maybe you should sit down,” Mack suggested, standing up. “Take a couple deep breaths; try to stop thinking about him.” He walked back toward the common room, and Fitz followed after him.

“I thought about it,” Fitz told him, once they were sitting on the couch. “About—erm—about—about—words—what I wanted to—to speak to him, if I ever…” Fitz trailed off, fingers coming up to tug at his lip.

“If you ever got the chance?” Mack finished.

Fitz nodded. “It didn’t go like I planned in my head. But I did get to show him what he did—the—the—the results of what he did when he dropped us.” Fitz snorted. “He said he wanted to—to save us, give us a—a—a fighting chance. Bollocks! Garrett told him to kill us, so he did. Well, he tried.”

“It sucks that they keep him down there.”

“Yeah,” Fitz agreed. “It sucks. It sucks even more that they kept it from me.” He clenched his hands into fists and suddenly punched them into the couch cushion. “Fuck Coulson!” he snarled. “Fuck him for bringing that cunting twat bastard here, and fuck him for keeping it from me, and fuck Ward for—for—all of it!”

“Woah,” Mack said, “take a breath.”

“No! I can be angry! I’m—I’m—”

“Angry?” Mack offered. “Yeah, I can see that you are.”

Fitz shook his head. “No, I mean, yeah, I’m angry, but it’s—it’s okay—it’s—the rule.”

“There’s a rule about you being angry?”

Fitz shook his head and punched the couch again. “Never mind.”

“You want to shoot some fake bad guys?” Mack offered, motioning toward the television. “Get that anger out? You made me lose my progress; the least you can do is help me take out the boomers again.”

“No,” Fitz said. “I’m going to the lab.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I just—need some time, you know?”

“Yeah,” Mack said. “If you want to talk some more, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks, Mack.”

“Any time, Turbo.”

Fitz paused in front of the door to Vault D, tablet in hand. He’d turned the oxygen back up before going to get Mack, but he should probably tell someone to check if he did any damage. He’s not like him. He’s not a murderer. He would never betray his friends, his family. He thought about going back down, trying to get out the speeches he’d written and re-written in his head, if his aphasia would even let him.

He started walking again, around the corner, into the lab. He sat down at his desk, looking around automatically for Simmons, but neither she nor his hallucination was anywhere to be found. He wondered if she ever got angry, if she felt the burning desire to get her revenge, to yell and scream and curse at the unfairness of it. But Simmons was too good to act on any of that. He hoped that wherever she was, she was safe. They all deserved to be safe.

He hoped Donnie was safe too. At least the kid had the excuse of brainwashing, unlike Ward. He pulled up the article about their visit to the Academy. It felt like ages ago. He looked so different in the picture, so young, innocent. He’d been so naïve then, thinking the worst thing he’d face in the field was getting shot at. He knew better now.

“Fitz?” Mack is standing in the doorway to the lab. Fitz looked up. “Coulson called. Hydra doesn’t have Donnie. They’re on their way back.”

“Is Donnie with them?” Fitz asked.

Mack shook his head. “They weren’t able to save him.”

Fitz looked back at the picture. Fuck Hydra he thought. They were the real targets of Fitz’s anger. “You still need help finishing off the—the—”

“Boomers?” Mack finished. “Yeah, if you’re up for it.”

Fitz shrugged. “It’ll take them a few hours to get back.”

“Gotta kill time somehow,” Mack agreed.

Fitz smiled to himself as he followed Mack back to the common room. He’d lost a friend and a brother the moment Ward had ejected the pod. But he’d made a new one in Mack.