Agents of Shield Fanfic Part A

Pretty much as the title says; the beginning part of an Agents of Shield Fanfic. (Starts after Season 1, possible spoilers.)

Step uncertain and head ducked, Simmens made her way down. Metal creaked with every step, and the stairs were coiled tightly in an anti-clockwise direction to put attackers at a disadvantage. Even so, it was wrecking her pre-shredded nerves. It had already taken her an hour to get here, what with turning around every other step, driving the guards insane.Squaring her slight shoulders, Simmens walked into a corridor, and submitted to yet another check. This was the top-security prisoners wing. She was getting close.

 Wincing under the harsh glare of lights, ricocheting off the white-washed walls, she walked further and further, slower and slower. Simmens then paused, and carefully examined a soot stain. This took her a good ten minutes, combined with the nervous smiles and exuberant hellos to passing guards. Their diminished number stared at her warily, and increased their pace as she told them, “I’m a scientist, I’m allowed to be down here!” As they marched off hastily, passing the varied cells, Simmens would call after them, “Don’t worry, I’m not Hydra!”

The joke grew cold after the twentieth time, and Simmens decided she was stalling. “If only Fitz-” she murmured, voice trailing off. She was doing this for Fitz. Gradually she continued on, striding down the endless row of cells, until she came to the line of bars she was looking for. A name, a series of painful memories, was inscribed above this particular cell. Inside stood… “Coulson?”

He turned around, sapphire eyes frosty and lined, but an easy smile touched his lips. “Simmens. I was wondering when you would come to talk to our… guest.” Coulson stepped aside, moving over to a number of devices set in the wall. Heart constricting, she didn’t even watch as Coulson initiated a number of complicated security protocols. Her eyes were all on the figure, dangling from manacles. Coulson noted her surprise, and grinned. “They took my order to put him in chains rather seriously. I decided I liked the arrangement.” Simmens glanced at the prisoner’s wrists, cloaked in scars and dried blood from the rusted manacles. She smiled. “I also like that arrangement.”

The hanging head jerked up at her voice. Simmens swallowed the urge to ask him how his day was. Even in prison uniform, it was hard to imagine Ward as a messed-up traitor. His coal black hair had grown slightly, and his faint stubble was a shadow across his face. Further marked with a ghostly pallor and a myriad of cuts, Ward looked beaten. A dog that been dragged across rocky spires, face first. She soon realized that Ward also seemed to be analyzing her, noting the circles under her eyes. Neither said a word.

Ward chose to break the silence first. “Have you come to yell at me? I think I’ve already reached my daily dose.” Simmens decided yelling didn’t quite cover it. She slapped him. Hard. His head rocked on his neck, not even going through the futile motions of resisting. Tilting his head back in place, Ward raised his eyebrows and moved his lips to ask another question. Slap!

Briefly considering the merits of punching, Simmens decided on screaming. Ward had to know. He had to know the full impact of his greatest crime. “Fitz is in a coma! He’s been in a coma for a month, and the doctors are saying he’ll never wake up. Fitz could be dead soon. Fitz! Killed by your hand. And you’re telling me you don’t want to get screamed at?” Breathless, cheeks streaming with tears, Simmens stared at him, searching for regret.

Instead, he replied, “Simmens, what are you looking for? Regret? Fitz was never my friend, Specialists don’t have friends. He meant nothing to me.” Coulson elected to punch him. Nose dripping blood, Ward sighed slightly. “I know he’s not quite telling the truth, but he still deserved that for being an arrogant b*****d.” Coulson explained, lifting his shoulders in a half-shrug. Seeing Ward’s constrained glare, Coulson told him, “You Hydra go around killing everyone you feel like. Yet when you get captured, you expect to get treated well because we’re the good guys. Where’s the logic in that? Get used to it. For the rest of your life.”

Deciding to ignore Coulsons statement, Ward steamrolled on with his little speech. “Also, he loved you, and got to die proving that, so why are you so upset? He should-” Simmens stumbled back, the jab a physical dagger to her heart. “Oh yeah? What about Skye?” She lashed back with fury.

Ward’s emotional barriers shot up, a brief flicker of hurt trapped behind walls of steel. Jaw set, he retreated further behind his traitorous persona. However, Simmens wasn’t even sure if it truly was a persona. This could be the real Ward. Not the cute specialist who had jumped out of a plane to save her.

Achheeeeeeee!! Just as this thought entered her mind, the alarm system dissolved into high-pitched wails. The glaring lights flickered briefly, and were soon joined by the flashing green lights. Walls were washed in emerald as an extra defence system slid down behind the bars, and a cacophony of shouts rang out alongside the howl of the siren. Stunned, Simmens turned to Coulson. His face was set into grim lines. Terrified, she spared a glance for Ward. He was smiling.