Changes aren't always good

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"Simmons?" Ward asked, turning around inside his cell. I glanced over him, taking in his scars on the side of the head to the unkept beard. I hated him. Every single particle inside his body repelled me. "Come to assess my injuries? Come to tell Coulson that I shouldn't see Skye again? Well!" He accused, glaring at me. I heard Coulson come in behind me, but I ignored him. I needed to know. "7 years ago - were you still HYDRA?" I asked quietly, looking him in the face. His eyebrows furrowed, confused. "What? What's 7 years ago got to do with anythi-?" He began, before I cut him off. "Were you loyal to HYDRA back then?" I repeated calmly, dreading the answer. He nodded, still confused. "Um yeah, I was never loyal to SHIELD, as much as Fitz wants to believe." I nodded slowly. "Who was your first murder? Or the youngest you've ever killed, Ward." I asked, ignoring Coulson's confused look. Before Ward could answer, I held up my sisters file. "Ariana Simmons, she was killed back in London 7 years ago. Did you do it?" I stated, daring to look him in the eye again. He nodded, a smile breaking out in his face. "She was five. Five years old, Ward. She had just started school, she had her whole life to live for. Five!" I spat at him. Ward shrugged, looking as arrogant as ever. I began to walk out, Coulson by my side. As I left, Ward shouted from behind me, "do you honestly believe Fitz will ever recover?" I stopped, dead in my tracks, feeling the tears in my eyes. I glanced back at him. "I believe in him." I muttered, before walking out.

I was halfway down the corridor before Coulson caught up with me. "Simmons wait! What was that? You mean...Ward killed your sister?" He muttered, head bent away from where other SHIELD agents were walking past. I sighed, biting my lip. "It would seem so, sir" I answered, before walking to the lab.

"Simmons, what happened to your lip?" Skye asked, concerned, as I walked back in. I pressed my finger to it, revealing blood. Fitz came over to me, turning away from Skye. "Are you okay? You bite your lip when you're trying not to cry" he whispers, holding into my shoulder. I nod, smiling slightly before clearing my throat and turning back to the files in the table. "So, you've decoded them then?" I asked, nodding towards the pages of data. "Yeah!" Skye said, jumping off the table. "We've managed to gain some new intel from HYDRA, but most of it we knew already", she informed me, as I nodded, leaning against Fitz.

After presenting this information to Coulson, Fitz and I started preparing for lunch. Seeing as we are the only ones who notice when it's lunchtime, it usually falls to us to make it. As I am cooking, I think about how our team has changed since Ward's betrayal.

Skye is training harder than ever, and constantly asking May for advice. I think she was so hurt after Ward that she doesn't want to feel like that again, doesn't want to deal with emotions anymore.

May has become...friendlier. I mean she's not going around hugging people or complimenting them, but she's never hurtful anymore. The whole thing with Ward probably made her realise that she needs the team as much as we need her.

Coulson is working so much harder - too hard in fact. He targets every HYDRA base, every possible threat. But, despite everything, he's become softer, friendlier. With Skye and May he's thankful, thankful for holding the team together. With Fitz he's concerned, which of course Fitz hates. And with me... He recognises that I can't live without Fitz and is trying to do everything to make sure I don't have to.

And then there's Fitz. Fitz, who was so soft and gentle before, is getting more and more frustrated. As I look at him now, it's like nothing was ever wrong, but I remember. I remember the crying at night, and the difficulty he has with simple things. I remember how he imagined I was there for weeks after i left, the way he has panic attacks all the time.

And of course, I remember what happened when he woke up. He doesn't, but I will always remember that, what he said. What he did.

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