Chapter Text
Fitz sank down into the couch cushion, trying to get comfortable after hours in the same position.
The team had appropriated some of Cybertek's files from the compound before Colonel Talbot descended on it. Fury's little box of tricks had also given Coulson contacts and leverage which opened a few doors. Unfortunately, the data they had gotten their hands on was a mish-mash of digital, paper and video. All heavily coded and encrypted.
One of the Playground's labs had been rearranged to accommodate the sprawl and organized chaos while they worked through it bit by bit. One table was completely taken over by monitors and laptops and various bits and pieces of computers while Skye worked on decrypting the digital and video recors.
A second table was piled with carefully stacked and organized paper files that May and Billy worked their code-breaking magic on.
Fitz, Jemma, Coulson and Tripp had dragged a couple of couches and a low table into the room and sprawled out while they sorted through the files that had already been decoded.
Coulson and Tripp got anything to do with HYDRA's long range plans, strategy, politics and military programs.
Jemma tackled the bio-medical files with an increasingly disgusted frown of disapproval, while Fitz found himself both excited and horrified by the experiments and technical advances Cybertek had been pursuing.
On the one hand, what they'd accomplished was groundbreaking and beautiful, in theory. On the other, the means and complete lack of ethics or empathy left him cold and terrified at what they might unleash on the world.
Fitz tilted his head back against the couch and pinched the bridge of his nose, giving his eyes and his brain a rest for a moment. When he lifted his head again, Jemma was staring at him, lip caught between her teeth while she studied him with unabashed concern.
He sighed and tried not to glare at her, focusing instead on the file in front of him. Yes, he'd been in a coma for a couple of weeks. Thanks to Fury's intervention, Jemma's brilliance and the miracle of SHIELD's advanced bio-medical tech, he was fine.
The exhaustion and occasional headaches had more to do with the past month's worth of non-stop days. Hours of sorting through horrifying HYDRA files punctuated by occasional, terrifying forays out in the field to deal with some of the Fridge's escapees or HYDRA's latest scheme.
He wasn't the only one feeling the strain, either. Skye had permanent frown lines etched between her eyebrows, if Tripp's posture got any tenser, he might snap in two and Coulson looked like he hadn't slept a full night in weeks.
Fitz tilted his head to glance around the room. Everyone showed signs of stress and exhaustion. Maybe he should try to redirect Jemma's intense need to coddle onto one of them. May caught him glancing in her direction and raised an eyebrow at him.
Her simple expression shouldn't be terrifying. Yet… maybe Skye would be a better place to focus Jemma's attention. He was still trying to think of a casual way to suggest it when Coulson made a hard, choking sound, then muttered, "Well, damn."
"Damn? Damn what?" Skye asked, spinning around to face him.
"There's a bomb."
"What kind of bomb?"
"Where?"
"When?"
Coulson held up a hand and waited for the deluge of questions to fall into silence before speaking."
"I don't know where it is, other than buried beneath a major city. There aren't any specific details, just mention of a super-secret plan, cutely named Operation: Revelation, to be used in case of a HYDRA crisis. Either to ransom their way back into power and money or to use as a show of intent and strength."
"Why haven't they used it already?" Tripp asked.
"Apparently, only a small group knew where it was hidden. Even fewer had the ignition code. Garrett and Pierce among them."
"Well, they're dead," Skye said. "Hopefully whoever else knew it is dead, too."
She winced at her own callous words and added, "Or, at least, on the run and too busy to think about the bomb."
"Is there any clue as to where it is?" May asked.
"No. Hence the super-secret part."
"If Garrett knew, Ward might know," she suggested and the familiar curl of pained disillusionment twisted in Fitz's chest, the way it always did when someone mentioned Ward. Despite everything, he'd wanted to believe in his friend. And, a small part of him still wanted to.
"Ward hasn't said a word to anyone since he was taken into custody."
"They haven't let me interrogate him, yet," May muttered. Coulson gave her a glance that was both reprimanding and sympathetic but he didn't respond.
"We need to concentrate on trying to find any more information we can on the location of this bomb. We'll need to re-prioritize the files we're going through and see if we can find some kind of trail."
#
The next few days found the team pushing even harder, trying to find any detail or mention of the bomb in the already decrypted files, while Skye, May and Koenig continued to work on freeing the information still trapped by codes and electronic locks.
It was late, the room silent except for the hum of equipment when Skye's startled "Oh," echoed through the room.
All eyes snapped toward her and Coulson asked, "Did you find something about Operation: Revelation?"
"Uh, not exactly," her voice sounded strangled and freaked out enough everyone moved closer to see out what was wrong.Skye's monitors were filled with a grainy video of Garrett and a teenage boy in some rustic cabin.
Fitz squinted and then his breath stopped, confusion and revulsion clogging his throat.
Ward. The kid on his knees, begging for forgiveness and promising to do better was Ward. Garrett's smirk was cruel and his words were vicious and scathing. Then he reached for his belt, grin twisting into something vile. He was, he—
Fitz turned his head, gagging. Jemma stumbled back and Skye dropped her head into her hands. Coulson reached in front of her, tapped a few keys until a wall of scrolling text replaced the disturbing video.
Finally forcing himself to breathe again, Fitz let words jump out despite thinking better of it. "What was that?"
Skye, furious and horrified lifter her head and pointed to the screen.
"They targeted Ward. He was someone with potential skills they could hone. Someone vulnerable to experimental psych conditioning. They lied to him about his family, made him feel completely alone in the world. Isolated him until Garrett was his only human contact. Made him feel gratitude and allegiance toward the son-of-a-bitch."
"Simmons. I know it won't be particularly pleasant reading but can you figure out what they did to him."
Jemma swallowed hard, but nodded and stepped up to sit shoulder to shoulder with Skye.
May examined the screen, expression blank, then tilted her head, drawing Coulson to a quiet corner of the room. Unwilling to risk seeing any more details than were burned into his brain, Fitz let his eyes follow them, instead.
"If we could deprogram Ward," May whispered. "We might be able to get him to help us find the bomb."
Fitz stared at her in horror before crossing the room and snarling, "Are you that much of a cold hearted bitch? Skye just told us they stole Ward's entire life and all you can think about is how we can use him?"
She lifted one shoulder looking completely unconcerned and the edge of Fitz's vision went red with fury.
Coulson put his hand on Fitz's shoulder and squeezed. "We are going to find a way to help Ward, no matter what. But if we can help save hundreds of thousands of people, we have a responsibility to them, too. We will find a way to deprogram Ward, one way or another."
"Uh, it may not be that easy." Jemma wrinkled her nose when attention focused on her.
"What's the problem?"
"Well, Ward was part of a program that systematically trained subjects to be obedient and loyal to a specific mentor. Garrett used classic conditioning and brainwashing techniques. Isolation, extreme conditions, a rotation of pleasure/pain, reward/punishment, small amounts of praise interspersed with large amounts of negative feedback. Unfortunately, that's not all."
"What else?" Coulson asked, resignation vibrating in his voice.
"They contaminated the fresh water spring near his camp with an experimental drug that made the conditioning process easier and more effective. Extremely effective. Nearly unbreakable."
"You're saying he can't be deprogrammed?" May asked.
"Possibly. Ward was only one of many they experimented on this way. Some of them they later tested to see what kind of counter-conditioning the process could stand up to. The results were…."
"Bad?" Tripp interjected.
Jemma winced. "Depends on your perspective. Cybertek found the results encouraging. Fifty percent completely resisted all attempts at deprogramming."
"So, then, fifty percent actually were deprogrammed, fight?" Skye said, eyes bright with excitement and hope.
"Not exactly. The other fifty percent develop a variety of psychoses and violent tendencies. One woman jumped off a bridge, a male operative entered an embassy and opened fired. The rest all had to be institutionalized. The ones HYDRA didn't kill outright, that is."
Shock plunged the room into silence, everyone staring at their hands or the walls, not willing to look at each other.
Finally, Fitz cleared his throat, the lump lodged there, still making his words come out hoarse and rough.
"There's no hope of helping Ward, then?"
Jemma shifted from foot to foot.
"There was another trial group. A small number of subjects whose initial mentor was killed or became undesirable were studied to see if their loyalty could be…" she paused, searching for the right word. "Reassigned, I suppose. It didn't require the drug or the same intense isolation and conditioning, but it still involved systematic attachment protocols. The initial program seems to have created an intense need for a mentor. There was about an 80% success rate for those individuals. The common factor among successful cases was the subject had at least a nominal amount of trust in the new mentor before the re-programming started."
"Ward doesn't trust anyone." Skye sounded both depressed and angry when she said what they all were thinking.
"Maybe not," Coulson murmured, looking around at the group eyes hesitating on Skye. "But he might just surprise us."
#
Ward lay on the tiny, rock hard bunk, tucked away in his tiny, ascetic cell and let the aches of his body wash over him. Ribs, jaw, head. It all throbbed in counterpoint to one another.
He had to give Talbot's men credit, though. They were pretty good at causing pain without actually breaking anything. Too bad for them, he'd learned to endure pain and torture at the hands of a master.
He forced his eyes closed but knew sleep wasn't coming anytime soon. Every time he tried to escape the pain and the reality, he remembered Garrett's sneer. Or Skye's righteous anger. Or the yearning, still hopeful look on Fitz's face when Ward pushed the button.
No, sleep was meant for those who didn't have a lifetime of failure weighing them down. The most he could hope for was the foggy cloud of exhaustion obscuring the darkest of his sins. The worst wasn't the confinement or the pain or even the doubts creeping in that maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe Garrett had not been the salvation he'd always believed in wholeheartedly.
No, the worst was the complete lack of direction he felt. Paralyzed by indecision when he had no orders. No over-arching goal or directive. Should he meekly accept his lot? Should he fight? Escape? Give up?
The cell door banged open and two guards pulled him from his bunk, snapping on heavy chains at wrist, waist and ankle before dragging him down the hallway.
Huh. It didn't feel like time for interrogation, round two of the day. Maybe they were getting as bored of the predictability as he was and decided to mix things up a bit.
The room they dragged him into wasn't one he'd seen yet, but comfortably familiar in universal blandness. Plain walls, single heavy table, a couple of uncomfortable looking chairs and CCTV camera's in every corner to record it all.
This one had a tile floor rather than a cement one that sloped to a drain, like the room they'd been 'questioning' him in for the past few weeks. Once the guards had his restraint's secured to the table, however, they left him alone in the room.
Looked like they were trying to shake things up. Maybe he was supposed to be so grateful not to be beaten, he'd just spill everything he knew.
Ward leaned back in his chair and stared at one of the cameras, face blank and posture as relaxed as he could make it with the pain pulling at his ribs.
When the door finally opened, he managed to hide his surprise, but just barely. Coulson was the last person he'd expected to walk through it.
"Hello, Ward." The smile Coulson gave him was strained around the edges but looked sincere. It didn't matter, though.
He did his best to ignore his former boss, focusing on a spot over Coulson's right shoulder when he sat down across from Ward, setting the tablet he held on the table in front of him. Avoiding eye contact made it easier to keep his feelings locked away.
"You're looking… well, I guess you know how you look." Coulson's voice held that hint of sarcasm that used to mean camaraderie. Apparently, he thought appealing to Ward's nostalgia might work where beatings hadn't.
"The team is doing well, in case you're wondering. May and Tripp are out hunting down another fugitive. They make a good team. May still hates your guts, though. In case you were wondering."
Ward ignored the bait and the pause that followed it before Coulson sighed and continued.
"Skye's doing well. She's making mincemeat of Cybertek's encryptions. We should have access to all the files we've obtained very, very soon."
What did it matter to Ward, now? His part in the silent war between HYDRA and the world was over. He'd spend the rest of his life in prisons like this one.
"Oh, and Fitz and Simmons, well…" Coulson dragged out the last word and Ward couldn't stop himself from snapping his head back to stare at Coulson. His heart hammered in his chest, the icy disinterest he'd cultivated disappearing under a heated rush of panic. He needed to know, but was terrified to hear.
The narrowed, considering eyes made him realized he'd given too much away and he twisted to stare blankly at the spot behind Coulson again. It was too late though. No matter what had happened to them, what Ward had done, he'd have to live with it.
He'd wanted to disobey Garrett, but he couldn't defy him. He hadn't been able to bring himself to kill them, himself, either. Though, it probably would have been kinder than what he'd done. The only choice he could make was to give them a chance to genius their way out of it. It hadn't been much of a chance, but he'd clung to the hope they'd somehow managed.
"They're alive. And working hard to put an end to HYDRA."
Ward closed his eyes and took a deep shuttering breath. Didn't bother to try and conceal it before returning his attention to the spot on the wall that looked like every other one in the room.
"You look relieved."
Ward had to fight hard not to roll his eyes at the obvious.
Coulson leaned back, loosened his tie and made no pretensions about studying Ward openly.
"Maybe you'd like to make amends. You could help them by giving us some information about Operation: Revelation."
Ward was surprised they'd stumbled on something Garrett and Pierce had played so close to the vest, but he managed to conceal it, this time.
"We need to know where it is, Ward. We need to know how to stop it. You could make up for a lot of your past deeds by saving the millions of people it's endangering."
He wanted to tell. For the first time, he wanted to talk. But he couldn't. Couldn't betray Garrett. Everything in him felt sick, his mind and body both seizing at the thought.
"Okay," Coulson said, resigned and determined. He leaned forward and thumbed on the tablet, scrolling through files before pushing it across the table for Ward to see.
It took Ward a minute to recognize himself. To remember he was ever that young. Then the cabin registered. And Garrett. Once he did, he didn't need the video to remember that moment. Bile rose in his throat, threatening to overwhelm his body while the memory sickened and overwhelmed his thoughts. But he couldn't look away.
On his knees. Pleading. He'd missed a shot. Garrett told him he was worthless. That he was wasting both of their time. Ward had begged for another chance to prove himself, to redeem himself.
When Garrett reached for his belt, Ward shoved the tablet away. He didn't need to see the way he'd choked on Garrett's dick to earn his punishment. Because if he wasn't punished, he couldn't have another chance. But Garrett wasn't sure he was worth the time or effort to bother correcting him.
He didn't need to see the strokes of the belt he'd counted out and asked for. Didn't want to remember how pathetic he felt for not being able to hold back the tears running down his face. The way he'd nearly bit through his lip to stifle the moans of pain and weakness, while Garrett berated him.
Anger burned some of the humiliation away. How had someone managed to record this without him knowing? Why would anyone? The only person who'd even known where he'd been was Garrett.
Garrett. He couldn't… wouldn't…
"What is this?" He demanded, pulling on his chains in an aborted attempt to surge to his feet. "What kind of game are you playing?"
His voice cracked with disuse, sounding pathetic and weak, despite his fury.
Coulson reached over, looking somber and determined and turned off the still playing video.
"No game. At least not one I'm playing. Garrett used Cybertek research and drugs to condition you."
"Bullshit. He wouldn't. He was the only one whoever gave a damn about me."
Coulson tapped on the screen, pulling up a file to replace the video.
"I'm afraid he would. And did. He lied to you about a lot of things."
The tablet slid back in front of him and he read it. He read the litany of Cybertek's 'best practices' for conditioning and fought the urge to gag when he recognized a thousand moments between him and Garrett. Ward had reacted like a fucking textbook case. Every. Fucking. Time.
His cuffs gave him enough leeway to scroll through the horrifying file.
He'd been easy. Not even a challenge. From the first day, there'd been no doubt he'd be a perfect obedient little soldier, dancing to Garrett's every whim.
Ward wanted to throw the hunk of glass and plastic against the wall. Instead, he firmed his lips and leaned back in his chair.
"This can be fixed, right? SHIELD's gone, but some of their de-programmers must still be around."
"I'm afraid not," Coulson shook his head, leaned across the table to bring another file.
Ward didn't want to look. Didn't want to know how thoroughly he'd been used. How thoroughly he'd been fucked over by the only person he'd let himself belief in.
When he was done reading, his heart was hammering in his chest.
"So, no hope for me, huh? A slave without a master, still dancing to the last orders he gave me."
Coulson's lips thinned out, like he wasn't happy about what he had to say, but he was going to, anyway.
"Deprogramming is dangerous but we might be able to… transfer your… loyalty to someone else."
"Who? One of Talbot's goons? I think I'd rather take my chances with the de-programmers and the loony bin."
"That's not the way it works. It's only successful if you have a least a little bit of trust in the new mentor to begin with."
Ward gave him a flat stare, waiting for Coulson to get to the punch line and laugh at how screwed he was. It didn't happen, though. Instead Coulson waited in expectant silence until Ward growled out, "I don't trust anyone."
The sigh of exasperation was familiar and somewhat expected.
"Ward. You were wrong, earlier. Garrett didn't give a damn about you. But there is a whole team of people who did before you showed your true colors. Knowing what we know, now, if you show you want to make amends, I think they will again."
It was impossible. He couldn't. No one would want to help him. But he didn't want Garrett to direct the rest of his life. Even now, he wanted to tell Coulson the truth about Operation: Revelation, but everything in him seized up. And he'd made a promise to always be loyal to HYDRA, back when they weren't sure they'd find a cure for Garrett.
If they ever got hold of him. If anyone in the prison was a sleeper Hydra agent, he'd be fucked.
"Not May," he said through gritted teeth. "Not Skye."
He'd never be able to forgive the things he'd done to them and he knew they'd hold a grudge.
"Not you. One SO screwing with my head is enough for one lifetime.
Warm trusting eyes, willing him to do the right thing. Believing Ward would do it right up to the last minute, despite all evidence and Simmons telling him it was a lost cause.
"Fitz."
The name jumped off his lips before he thought it through. Still. If he found a way to trust anyone, Fitz was the only candidate.
Coulson blinked and opened his mouth, then closed it. Apparently, he hadn't been expecting that answer.
"I don't know if he'll do it," Coulson finally said.
"I know."
Ward dropped his head, closed his eyes and swallowed hard. He had no right to ask. No right to burden Fitz with this responsibility after what he'd done. But he would, because, whatever else Garrett had made him, Ward was a survivor. He always had been. He couldn't, change that now.
He heard Coulson stand up and pick up the tablet.
"I'll talk to him. If he agrees, and if I can work through the red tape of all the organizations who want a piece of you, I'll be back in a few days."
Ward didn't bother answer, didn't even lift his head. Just nodded and kept his eyes closed, even after Coulson walked out. Leaving him alone. Again.