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✧·ﾟ:CHAPTER EIGHT*:·ﾟ✧
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✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* the well *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧
date: 16th November 2013
location: Greenwich University, London
━━"This is stupid," Agent Roy let out, scanning a group of debris for anything extraterrestrial. "I have a simple rule: you make a mess, you clean it up. Thor most definitely has something to learn from that."
"What, are you going to go up to Asgard to tell him to clean up all of this?" Simmons arched a brow at her, and Roy angrily set her scanner down, meeting her friends' gaze to tell her:
"Yes. If I could, I would."
Picking up a piece of debris with picky fingers, Roy crinkled her nose. Stuck in Greenwich University, London, their team (amongst others from HQ) were tasked with cleaning up the mess worth of an Asgardian. Thor's battle in London made it all over the news━a great big spaceship in the sky, jumping between worlds in portals that appeared out of nowhere. And the worst of it, the destruction Thor and the Dark Elves left behind.
Finding it to be just debris, Roy threw it to the bucket at the ground beside her feet. "Thor's hot, I give him that━I'd love to spend some time with those arms━" hearing her, Fitz rolled his eyes, "━but he just needs to clean up after himself!"
Just to add to her anger, Ward tipped a barrel of more debris for Fitz-Roy-Simmons with a mutter of, "Don't say I never gave you anything."
"I don't honestly appreciate this as you giving us something," quipped Roy, narrowing her gaze at the specialist, but just grabbed more debris to scan.
Fitz picked up a singular rock, holding it under his tablet to scan, "Checking for alien spectrographic signatures━one teeny rock at a time."
"A necessary precaution," said Ward. "We don't want anything alien getting in the wrong hands."
"Still," Fitz looked up, "this is definitely the type of work a monkey could easily do."
Ward arched a brow, "You're our little monkey," he told him, and Fitz pursed his lips.
As he tried to think of something smart to reply with, Roy's phone chimed continuously. She jumped, frowning. Setting down her equipment, she reached for it in her pocket. When Clara saw who was calling, she faltered. She felt bile rise in her throat. She was still yet to tell her father what had happened to her, and what had happened on the news. He was probably worried out of his mind to begin with, and she didn't want to just worry him more with the tale of her nearly dying because of an alien virus which caused her to jump out of a plane ... no, he'd have a heart attack.
So, ignoring the glances sent at her, she declined the call. Looking up, she met Fitz's gaze. He saw right through her, giving her that look that just infuriated her because she knew he was right. Either way, she narrowed her gaze and said, "Don't give me that look. I'll talk to him when I talk to him."
"Talk to who?" asked Ward, and Roy sighed. She really didn't want to bring everyone in on this.
"Dad," she said. "He wants explanations and answers for ... well, all of this━" she gestured around them. "But you see, I don't have answers."
"You also haven't even called him once since you were ill," muttered Fitz, and Clara gave him an exasperated glance. He just returned it with one of his own.
Catching Ward's curious glance as he passed, she sighed once again. "I don't want to worry him," she told him truthfully. "He's already got so much on his plate, I don't need him to stress even more about me than he already does, so, you know ..." her phone rang again, and Clara pursed her lips. Taking a deep breath, she declined it once again. This time, Simmons sighed, but didn't say anything. Both of her friends━and Roy━knew it was wrong of her to ignore him, but Roy was still ignoring her problems herself at the moment. Tucking her phone away, she couldn't meet her friends' expectant gazes.
In the end, Fitz pursed his lips and looked away. Picking up a strangely-shaped piece of debris, he placed it under his scanner. When his tablet flared up, Simmons looked over, gasping. "Fitz, is that━?"
Slowly, he stood up and answered: "Definitely not from here. Another piece of the ship━" Ward took it from his fingers, and Fitz frowned, watching him pack it away into one of the open cases, "━what are you doing?"
"Out of sight," he said, "out of mind."
Roy eyed the case with a tight throat. She used to be very much like Simmons, excited to understand alien biology, but since nearly being killed from an alien virus, Roy couldn't help but feel an itch of fear. What if that piece of space ship had an alien virus attached to it to? Pursing her lips, she looked away, returning back to her work.
She felt someone's eyes on her━maybe Fitz. She could just imagine is an expectant gaze that usually belonged to her: you need to call your father. Yes, she knew she did. So, she glanced around (she was right), but it wasn't an expectant gaze. Seeing the concern in his blue eyes, her glare faltered. Roy tucked her hair behind her ear, unable to watch him any longer. He knew━as did Simmons━they both knew her better than anyone else, and they knew she wasn't okay. But was it the right time to talk about it? No, never.
"It's why we're here," continued Ward. "To keep everything under control."
Keep everything under control, yes, thought Agent Roy. Keep everything under control: her feelings, her bad thoughts, all locked away in a door in her mind━forever, never to resurface unless she needed it to.
They had to leave the clean-up early due to a mission call all the way from Norway. A national park where two rangers had originally inspected what they thought had been someone cutting down a protected tree, only for (the tree to be cut) a woman of inhumane strength with icy blond hair alongside a man who watched her kill one of the rangers, happy.
Stuck in the lab with Fitz, Roy didn't want to go out there if this was an Index case. One, she wasn't needed unless someone had a freak accident and was in search for a doctor, and two; it was her excuse in her fear of another experience like Chan. She said she locked her feelings away, but perhaps she didn't. Maybe there was a leak, because they were flooding out recently and she couldn't control them.
Agent Roy busied herself in re-organising her medical drawers and her desk. Fitz━waiting for Simmons on comms━watched her with a suspicious eye. After a little while, he sighed, "Are you seriously organising your equipment again? It's already stupidly specific."
She narrowed her eyes at him, "Is there something wrong with having an orderly workspace?"
"There is when you're using it as an excuse to keep yourself busy."
Hating how he could always see right through her, Roy set down her box of gloves with a angry thud. Spinning around, she snapped, "Can't you ever mind your own business, Leo?"
She used his first name. Fitz winced━when she used his first name, she was annoyed; very. "I'm only looking out for you, Clara," he decided to match her petty-use-of-first-names game. "It's what friends do. And the fact that you're snapping at me for asking a simple question tells me you that I'm right in doing so."
Roy pursed her lips, looking away, "You don't know that."
Fitz scoffed at her, "Uh, yeah, I do. It's been ten years, I know how you back to front, Clara, no matter how much you hate it."
This angered her, "Yeah, well," leaving her work to storm up to him, she told Fitz: "after ten years, you should also know that when I'm organising my things, it doesn't mean I'm trying to keep myself busy━" she was lying straight through her teeth, and they both knew it, "━it just means I'm trying to keep my workplace neat."
"Yeah, really?" he threw back. "And the coffee you had this morning? You never have caffine, so either you want to not have steady hands anymore or you haven't been sleeping well, which is it?"
Clara Roy bit the inside of her cheek to try and stop the lump forming in her throat. Lock it away, she told herself. She turned away, feeling rather ashamed that he could see through her so well. Fitz swallowed back his anger, and sighed, a little exasperated. The tense air between them grew so thick it was suffocating.
Agent Roy was glad when readings sparked up on the Holotable from Simmons, and her voice flickered onto comms with a: "Fitz, are you getting this? It's not Chitauri, is it?"
Fitz jumped back to reality, swiping up the readings so they were portrayed holographically for them to see. Roy hoped it was Chitauri━please don't be. "No, no, no," Fitz shook his head, picking apart at the visual, "don't worry. This isn't another viral threat."
Thank the Lord.
"Spetrographic signatures match readings from Thor's hammer," he then said, and this caused Roy to shuffle closer in interest.
"It's Asgardian?" she asked, her and Fitz's shoulders bumping each other (as if their previous fight never happened━it was usually like that), as she looked at the readings. "Holy━whatever was in that tree, Simmons, it's Asgardian."
Simmons let out breath of awe, "I━I can see an imprint of what was embedded━Scanning for three-dimensional restoration. Tell me when..."
Roy tapped a few buttons underneath the table to set up an extra file, as she did, Fitz swiped the spetrographic signatures to the side, giving them room for Simmons's scan. Roy brought it up, her eyes widening to see the clunk of holographic wood with a distinct cut out in the middle. There she could see what Simmons had been talking about━an imprint of markings from whatever was embedded. To Agent Roy, it almost looked like some sort of staff.
"When," said Fitz, starting the restoration. It loaded, and as it did, the once embedded obejct lit up with blue. "Um ... looks like a staff or a rod."
"Knew it," muttered Roy, reaching over him to grab it with two fingers and pulling the restoration away. As she did, Fitz binned the rest of the holographic scan. "Looks well-crafted, engraved," she spun it around vertically. "Fitz can easily convert it and print a 3-D model."
"Yeah, in a jiffy," Fitz got straight to work.
On the second comms line, Skye spoke up, "Whoever these guys are, it doesn't look like they're hiding."
"Sending to your devices now," added May.
Roy's tablet beeped, and she picked it up. Bringing up the video, she saw a newscast from Oslo, Norway showing footage of riots and violence. Flames exploded int he streets, and people ran away from the destruction, their screams distant but echoing. Their message flickering with fire on the roads: WE ARE GODS.
The rest of the team met up at the monitor in the lab with findings. After a quick search, Ward found the identity of the man and woman responsible. In her usual spot in between Fitz and Simmons, Roy watched Ward talk and address them, thinking the shirt he wore was very flattering to his strong figure. How could someone be so strong, heroic, handsome and tall at the same time? And kind and goodhearted. It didn't seem right━it was too good to be true.
Simmons frowned at Roy, flicking her side to make sure she was paying attention to the right thing. Roy's cheeks went rosy, and she shifted her position, leaning against the Holotable and fixing her gaze strictly on the monitor and not the specialist standing beside it.
"Jakob Nystron, thirty," Ward pointed to the picture of the man before moving on to the girl beside him. "Girlfriend, Petra Larsen. Leaders of a Norse paganist hate group." He walked back to the table, taking a stance next to Skye.
"And the numbers are growing," continued Skye, "thanks to what happened in Greenwich, and thanks to the Internet. 'Yay Internet', she said sarcastically."
"Norse paganist?" frowned Simmons.
"Obsessed with anything derived from Norse mythology," explained the hacker. "Stories of Asgard."
Reaching forward, Ward picked up the plastic three-dimensional printing of the staff. Only half of it was available, due to the limitations from the scanning. As he did, Fitz held a hand out, cautious of anyone holding something of his property that wasn't him for Roy or Simmons. "And now a weapon," said Ward.
"The scan only accounted for one side," said Fitz. "Too much damage to the tree for complele reproduction."
"But see here?" Roy reached across Simmons to tap either side of the staff (to show him, and most definitely not to get a closer look at his strong arms. Fitz rolled his eyes). "It's clearly broken on both ends and━"
"So there are more pieces?" asked Ward, and she grinned brightly.
"Yeah," nodded Fitz. "Two, at least."
"Which means Sid and Nancy may be looking for a complete set," realised Ward. "The markings?"
"Asgardian symbolism," Coulson and May returned, walking through the doors and up to the Holotable. "Hard to translate with our limited knowledge."
"You should give your buddy, the God of Thunder a shout," Skye muttered. "He gets his power from his hammer, right? what if this is his nail to the hammer?"
"I already did," replied Coulson. "Director Fury told me he's off the grid."
Roy scoffed, "Oh, of course he is. Probably because he's too lazy to clean up his own mess..."
"And if he has a cell phone," he continued, taking the staff to examine it himself, "we don't' have the number."
"S.H.I.E.L.D.'s investigations are on the trail of Nystrom and his followers," said May.
"We're charged with identifying the object, and finding any other pieces before they do," Coulson finished.
"They seem to have some advantage," frowned Ward. "They found this thing in a hundred-fifty square kilometres of Norwegian forest."
"Guys," Skye held her hands out like she had come to a remarkable discovery, "what if it called to them with magic?" Roy shared a look with Simmons and Fitz, hiding her amusement.
May quirked a brow, "Called to them?"
"We know it's Asgardian," Skye said, "so the rules are a little bendy here."
"Just because we don't understanding something yet doesn't mean we should regress back to the Dark Ages," said Roy, chuckling to herself━with a glance to her side, she checked whether Ward was finding it amusing as well━, "talking of magic and fairytale." Instead, it was Fitz who chuckled nervously at her terrible joke, quick to agree with her. Simmons rolled her eyes, already done with the both of them.
"Actually, that's exactly what we're going to do," Fitz-Roy-Simmons turned to Coulson in surprise. "When we first found the hammer in New Mexico, I consulted one of the world's leading experts on Norse mythology. Elliot Randolph. A professor at a university in Seville. We'll leave immediately. Maybe he can tell us more about these markings."
Roy kissed her teeth quietly to herself, glancing at Simmons with a look of: well, I wasn't expecting that.
✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* the well *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧
date: 17th November 2013
location: Seville, Spain
━━Agent Roy was never going to get used to this job. Never in her life would she visit Seville, and yet here she was. Stepping into the university, she was greeted by the old smell of settled dust. The group of them were lead up to Professor Randolph's office, and the stairs creaked under thier feet. Roy had a small smile on her face as her fingers trailed along the old wooden railing. The steps were small, and her feet (that had always been small) fit exactly in the space of the old green carpet. The lights above were once gas lamps, now electrical. This whole palce was like stepping back in time, and yet there was flickers of modern society. But not so much that it ruined the splendor of the precise architecture in the plaster on the roof, intricate patterns of flowers and vines.
They followed Coulson through the doors as a young student left, her dark eyes watching them as she did. They probably looked like a very odd bunch. Coulson in his James Bond suit, and Fitz-Roy-Simmons dressed up in mixes of bright cardigans, collared shirts, jeans and sneakers. It was like someone tried to mix sophisticated with 'hip' and here they were.
Behind the door, was Professor Randolph. Roy would admit, he looked exactly how she pictured him. A little chubby with a suit perhaps a bit too tight, however he didn't have glasses (which was the only thing that different from her imagination). "Professor Randolph," nodded Coulson.
"Agent Coulson," Randolph was quick to shake his hand, happy. "Come in, come in!"
They did so, and Roy glanced around the office. Dark and filled with antique furniture━very history professor. There were floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with a mixture of books, the carpet underneath them was a obnoxious pattern of warm colours. There was a felt green chair by the fire with a large antique lamp standing beside it. If Roy would say so herself, it was almost too much history professor.
Coulson smirked to see a pen in Randolph's fingers. He pointed at it, excited to explain exactly what it was. "Waterfield Forty-Four. Fourteen-karat gold nib with mother-of-pearl inlay."
Randolph chuckled, rather impressed. "That's quite an eye you've got. I didn't know you were a collector."
"On a government salary, not quite," he joked.
The Professor grinned. "Well," he gestured around him, "I'm assuming you found something on the ground in London?"
"In a tree in Norway," corrected Coulson, and Roy gave a nervous smile as Randolph's eyes flickered over to the three scientists, "and unfortunately, we weren't the ones who found it."
Fitz propped his case on the desk, and opened it up. Coulson picked out the restoration of the staff, holding it out for Randolph who's eyes immediately lit up. "It's a 3-D model," said Fitz as he did so.
Randolph examined it, breathing out a sigh of awe, "Oh, that is amazing," turning away from them, he placed it under the lamplight of his desk to see the patterns carved on the design better. "Well, based on these runes, I'd say I'm looking at a piece of the Bererker staff." He set it aside, and reached for one of his many books. "Let's have a look," he opened it up. "Yeah, the myth dates back to the late twelfth century. It's all about a powerful warrior from Asgard. Here━" he showed them an illustration of a warrior covered in medieval armour, holding up a long staff to the sky, "━a soldier in the Berserker Army."
"Berserker Army?" Fitz couldn't help but feel like this was all a bit fairy-tale. But then again, they all thought Norse Gods were fairytale, but they were aliens ... so.
"Oh, yeah," Randolph gave him a brief glance. "A powerful army. Fierce army, it was. Berserkers battled like raging beasts, destroying everything in their path. A single Berserker had the strength of twenty warriors."
"So, whoever wielded the staff got superhuman strength?" frowned Coulson.
Randolph nodded, "Fighting with it put the warrior into a state of uncontrollable rage," he picked up the rod again. "The staff contained a very powerful magic."
Roy couldn't help it━magic was going a bit too far. "Or a scientific attribute we've yet to disover," she butted in. Simmons agreed with her, nodding as Coulson sent them a look.
Randolph gestured the staff to her, "Analytically minded and pretty as a peach."
Fitz perhaps hated that comment more than Agent Roy. "The warrior in the story?" he said, his voice low in annoyance. Roy arched a brow at him, seeing the clench of his jaw. Ugh, she rolled her eyes.
"Well," continued the Professor, "in the story, he came ot Earth to fight, but he ended up falling in love."
Both Simmons and Roy let out gasps of delight. "With whom?" breathed Simmons.
"With life on Earth," said Randolph, his eyes glittering and the girls smiled. "Humanity. He fell so much in love that, when is army returned to Asgard, he stayed behind."
"What happened to the staff?" asked Fitz.
"Well, he didn't want its dark magic falling into the wrong hands. So, he broke it into three pieces, and hid each one in a different location."
"The manuscript wouldn't happen to say where he hid them, would it?" Couslon arched a brow and Randolph pointed a finger.
"Actually," he said, "it does. In three verses." The book was back in his hands as he flipped through the pages in search for the specific poem. "Now, let's all bear in mind, these are poetic abstracts from long-lost ancient texts. So, there is one about a tree, which they found, it seems. Another is: 'East of the river, sun overhead. Buried in earth with the bones of the dead'," he sent them a grin. "That's a bit macabre, isn't it? And there's another here. Well, this one doesn't even have a rhyme. But the gist of it is: 'close to God'. That could be anything, couldn't it?"
"Could also mean nothing," muttered Agent Roy, chuckling.
"I was hoping for less metaphor, more longitude and latitude," said Coulson.
He thought about this, "Well, I mean, it does stand to reason to search near Viking raid routes, doesn't it? Now, there have been some recent interesting findings of Norse relics on Baffin Island, off the coast of Canada. Yeah, a virtual treasure trove of new artifacts."
"We'll start there, then," nodded Coulson. "Thank you, Professor."
━━The lead in Canada got them nothing. Not even a nickel of Viking artefacts. However, Skye and May found a different avenue that seemed confusing, but very promising. In Seville in underground catacombs ... east of the river, and buried with a bunch of the dead. They were right, because━of all people to meet there━Skye, Ward and Coulson came in contact with Professor Randolph. They didn't get the staff, the norse paganist won once again, but Randolph was in their custody, being questioned by Coulson as they speak (or rather, huddle in the lab fussing over Ward).
Something had happened to him down there. Skye told Roy that he looked like he had seen a ghost, scrambling away from her, terrified. It caused for Agent Roy to perform a complete check up and diagnostic. Heart monitor, blood pressure, tests━Ward was hating it ... well, that was an understatement. But Roy had dealt with worse patients than Grant Ward (like Fitz, for example━he was a baby with needles).
"This is ridiculous," Ward told her, and Roy glanced up from her tablet to give him a stern glare.
"It is anything but," Skye replied, annoyed. "Ward, you passed out. And you were acting ... not right."
"Coulson ordered me to give you a full work up," muttered Roy, "and that's exactly what I'm doing." Ward scoffed, looking away, and she pursed her lips. "It'll be over soon, I promise. I'm sorry, I'm just doing my job, Ward." When he didn't say anything, she decided to continue. "So, um━before you lost consciousness, were you feeling claustrophobic?"
"Why?"
"She's ruling out a panic attack," spoke up Fitz, scrolling through the readings of his heart monitor with Simmons beside him.
"I don't panic," said Ward sharply. "Ever."
"Well, there we go," Roy gave him a gentle smile. "Ruled out."
"Touching the staff caused it, right?" asked Skye, and Ward just sent her a glare. She matched it with her own, not backing down.
"Any residual effects?" wondered Simmons. "Are you exhibiting any extra strength?"
Ward's gaze flickered up to the monitor where Coulson loomed over Randolph, trying to find out why he had been at the catacombs. So far, he wasn't saying anything useful. But his casual positioning, it really irked Roy. "Why don't I find out on that guy?"
"W━Why don't we not do that?" said Skye, and he just shifted awkwardly in the machine, his arm tense under the lamp. Roy sighed, he was not making this easy. She could see his heart was still racing, which not only told her he was lying, but also told her that there was something wrong. Ward had saved her life once, she wanted everything to make sure he was okay. She owed that much, at least.
"What's the last thing you remember before you lost consciousness?" piped up Fitz, and that caused a spark in his heart rate.
Ward ripped his arm out from the monitor, standing up and storming away. "This is a waste of time!" he leant against the Holotable, scowling at the monitor, his chest heaving. Roy let out a few distressed words as she tried to keep the machine from falling off the chair. "We need to find the staff."
"What exactly did you remember?" Fitz stared at him, surprised. It wasn't like he was asking him something terrible. He just wanted to know any clues as to how he passed out.
Ward gritted his teeth. "Something I hadn't thought about in a long time."
Skye pursed her lips, and Roy could see that she perhaps knew exactly what he was talking about. Glancing at the scientists, she said, "Why don't we leave it alone?"
Roy frowned, "Uh, no, clearly he's not all right━"
"━he just pulled his arm out of━"
"━we're just trying to help━"
"Quiet!" they all fell silent at Agent Ward's snap. Fitz pulled his tablet closer to his chest, never a big fan of someone shouting at him. He receieved enough of it as a kid. "I want to hear this." Angrily, Ward activated the audio of the footage, and Coulson's voice echoed out through the comms.
"One of my men is hurt," he was saying, "the staff is gone ━"
"I didn't want any of that to happen," replied Randolph simply.
"What did you want?" Coulson walked up to the table in the centre of the Cage. "The staff's power for yourself?"
Roy wasn't paying much attention. Her gaze was fixed down on the tablet, seeing Ward's vitals rise. They shouldn't be trying to work him up more, they should be trying to calm him down. Him watching this interrogation, was not doing so.
"Nothing like that," he sighed. "You know, I just wanted to be the first to study it. To prove that the Berserkers were actually here, a part of history," Randolph's voice dropped to a whisper. "You think about that."
"Oh, I'm thinking about it."
Roy turned off the footage, and when the monitor returned to the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo, Ward spun around to her with an angry, "What are you doing?!"
Quickly, she explained, a gentle hand out, "Your heart rate's rising, adrenaline's spiking. You need to calm down, not get worked up."
He took a deep breath. Roy gave him a small nod, knowing that he didn't want that either. Ward pressed his hands on the table, closing his eyes and trying to control his breathing. Roy shared a nervous glance with Fitz and Simmons━Randolph said the Berserker staff caused heightened anger, and judging by his addrenaline, Roy could see truth in that statement right in front of her.
Skye carefully walked up closer to him. Propping her elbows on the table, she looked up at her S.O with soft, doe eyes. "The memory," she whispered, "was it about your brother?"
He met her gaze sharply. "Drop it."
But she didn't, "Ward, if you need to get it out, I am here━"
"Right," he cut her off. "To talk. Because that's what you do," slowly, Ward's voice rose. "Talk and talk. Don't you ever get tired of hearing your own voice?!" he stood up, and Skye quickly backed up, shrinking in her alarm of his sudden anger.
"Ward," Fitz walked up to him, "Stop━" he tried to place a hand on his shoulder, but Ward spun around, his fist held up high and Fitz jumped back.
Roy quickly stepped in, holding a hand out infront of Fitz. "Hey, hey, Ward. This is making sense now━what you're experiencing?" she met his angry gaze. "This feeling? It's chemistry."
"Hope so," muttered Skye, watching him warily.
"Yeah," Roy nodded, happy. She smiled, hoping to break the growing tension. "There are spikes in his adrenocorticotropic hormone. It's like those stories you hear when a mother is able to lift a car to save her baby! An andrenaline surge can create a massive━"
"Stop talking!" Ward shouted at her, and she froze. Roy stepped back, her breath hitching as he stormed right up to her with his hands in her face. "Just fix it!"
"She's trying," Simmons said, not liking how this conversation was heading. "But Ward, we can relieve some of the symptoms, but we can't create a full fix, not just yet━"
"Then what are you doing here?!" he turned on the biochemist. "Come on? Tell me? What is your purpose on this team?"
"Ward, stop it━" Fitz was getting angry. First he yelled at Skye, then he nearly hit him, he scared Roy and now he was advancing on Simmons.
Roy's voice was a stammer as she tried to advert Ward's attention from Jemma. She tried to stay calm, and positive, hoping to lessen his aggression. His brow was coated in sweat, as was his chest, heaving━she needed to stop this. "Ward, hey, look at me━" he glared at her, and she swallowed hard. "I'm going to give you ten cc's of benzodiazepine━" he scoffed, turning away and shaking his head.
"Chill pill," nodded Skye. "Good idea."
"A sedative?!" Ward growled at Roy through clenched teeth. "Not gonna happen."
"Yeah, well, be reasonable," Fitz met his anger with his own. "Look how you're behaving."
"And if I'm sedated and we cross paths with those juiced freaks, the ones who flip cars and smash people up," his voice softened dangerously low as he walked up to Fitz, jabbing a finger to his chest, "are you gonna take them on? Keep us safe? Or am I gonna have to save Roy's ass again?!"
With that, he snatched his shirt off the table and stormed out of the lab. There was silence. Simmons took a deep breath, hating how his words made tears form in her eyes. Fitz fiddled with the case of his tablet, while Roy and Skye pursed their lips.
In the end, Roy muttered, "That was just a biochemical reaction," but even then, there was a lump in her throat. "He didn't mean all that."
"No, I know," replied Skye.
"Yeah, of course," added Simmons.
"No explanation necessary," finalised Fitz, and they got back to work.
Once she had gotten her work done, they all had to get out of the lab. Especially when Ward was outside, taking out all of his anger at the punching bag by the small gym set up in the cargo hold. Roy wanted to help him, she wanted it to fix it for him, but she didn't know how. She can't fix everything, even though she felt like she needed to. She had to, and when she couldn't, it hurt.
Walking up to the bunks, she found herself peaking her head inside Fitz's. Seeing him sitting on his bed, she managed a weak smile. "Hey," she said.
He glanced up, "Hey."
Closing the door, she took the seat he offered her beside him. Leaning her head on his shoulder, she saw the schematic he was drawing up on his tablet, and found herself in awe of his genius. She always was. He was the smartest person she knew.
"How's Simmons?" she decided to ask, worried for her best friend. What Ward said, it really seemed to have hurt her the most. Roy wondered whether that was because she believed it━was that what she thought? That she was useless to the team? Roy found it so absurd that it never even crossed her mind. Because Simmons was very useful. Without her, half of the things they have achieved would have never come to place. They were a team, without Simmons, they'd just be Fitz-Roy━and just that felt empty. "I looked for her, but she wasn't in the lab or in her bunk ..."
"She's okay," said Fitz, zooming in onto his plans to check a connection. "She's with Skye working an angle, trying to keep herself busy ... but she knows Ward didn't mean what he said."
"Yeah, but I think she means what he said," muttered Clara Roy. "So, I was thinking after all of this is over, we should have a movie night, the three of us."
"That would be good," he said, and Clara nodded. Shifting her position so she was more comfortable, her green eyes watched him work.
"What's this for?" she then asked.
"Futher development on the Night-Night Guns."
Roy chuckled, "You need to find a better name for them."
Fitz gaped at her, "But the name's already perfect!"
She just arched a brow, "Okay, sure..." Roy sighed, and linked her arm though his, clutching on and setting her chin on his shoulder. "You're a genius, you know that?" he sent her a frown, confused at the sudden compliment. "And I'm serious. You're the smartest person I know."
Taken-aback, his fingers faltered, and they settled back down on his lap. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
"Because it's true," she told him. "And ..." Roy pursed her lips, "... and I thought you needed a reminder, after what Ward said."
Fitz's shoulders tensed, and he scoffed, "He didn't mean it, stop fussing over me Roy..."
"Leo," she said his first name━but not with any annoyance. Instead, with a gentle, tender tone that made him meet her gaze as she sat away. Clara looked right into his blue gaze to say, "I know you're thinking of your father."
Immediately, she saw him clench his jaw and look away. Placing the tablet aside, Roy expected the walls he was quickly building up. "I wasn't━Ward didn't mean what he said. I don't think about him at all anymore."
Clara gripped his shoulder, rubbing it gently. "It's okay if you are, okay? I still think of Mum all the time, no matter what she did to me. And that's why I'm telling you that whatever he's saying to you in your head, agreeing with Ward, it's not true, yeah?"
"Clara━"
"No," she shuffled closer again, "they don't know you like I do, okay? So don't listen to them, listen to me. I know you would have jumped out of the plane for me. You don't need to prove anything. You are heroic, and stupid, but extremely smart and a dork. That's who you are, and that's okay. No one wants you to be any different."
Clara wrapped her arms around his shoulders, not giving him a choice but to hug her. But she think Fitz appreciated it. He reached up to squeeze her hand. Her cheek pressed against his neck, she muttered, "I'm sorry. For snapping at you yesterday."
"It's okay," he said, "I get it, I do."
"You're just trying to be there for me," continued Roy. "And all I ever do is just push you away."
"Then don't," Fitz pulled away. "You can talk to me, whenever you want."
Clara took a deep breath. Crossing her legs apple-sauce, she sighed. "I want to, I just don't know what to say━or whether any of it makes sense, or whether it's important. I nearly died, but I didn't ..." she shrugged. "What's the point of lingering on it? I survived, that's what matters..."
"But...?" he prompted, watching her carefuly.
"But I keep dreaming that I didn't," she said. "That I left everyone behind. That I got the virus again and we didn't find the cure, and then I blew up the plane ... so, yeah, haven't been sleeping ... also doesn't help that I can't get Kwan's dead body out of my mind, either━" Roy tried to laugh it off, but it was hard with the lump in her throat.
Fitz sighed. He didn't know what to say that would make her feel any better, so he just mumbled a, "Come here ..." and hugged her again━properly this time.
✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* the well *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧
date: 17th November 2013
location: the Bus, Classified
━━Randolph was Asgardian.
Fitz-Roy-Simmons and Skye stared at the monitor in which Coulson and Ward finally got some good information out of him━and it wasn't what they had expected. He was the Berserker who stayed. A grin on his face, Fitz let out a: "I had no clue. Did you?" he glanced at the girls, and they all shook their heads. Roy chuckled in disbelief, in her usual spot between her two best friends. "Hidden in plain sight. An actual Asgardian. Brilliant."
Skye set her chin on the plam of her hand, her mouth agape, "How long do you suppose he's been on our planet?"
"A thousand years, maybe more," suggested Simmons.
Roy leaned forward on the table, her eyes narrowed, "You know, if we could just cut him open ... just a little bit━" Skye looked at her, alarmed, while the two scientists nodded, agreeing with the macabre statement, "━get some tissue samples, bodily fluids ... we could find out ..." she grinned, amazed.
"Or we could just ask him," muttered Skye, "weirdo." Agent Roy went red. "This is way, way better than the History Channel. I mean, this guy has lived through all the scary stuff! The Crusades, the Black Death, disco ..."
"The Emu War ..." added Simmons, "... Influenza ..." she gasped. "Oh! I wonder whether he was there to see all those people die from dancing too much━" Skye arched a brow, disturbed, "━yeah! They didn't stop dancing until they were dead."
"Yeah, the Dancing Plague of 1518," said Roy. "Theories say it was warm Antibody Hemolytic Anemia━" at Skye's confusion, she quickly added: "━Hot Blood Syndrome."
"Yeah ..." said Skye slowly, "I have no idea what that is..."
"Or they recieved a fungal disease..." continued Roy, her eyes off in space as she thought, "... Ergot━they could have consumed some rye flour bread that had it ... causes convultions which could have been romanticised to be dancing. That or it was demonic possession━which is ludicrous," she chuckled to herself, shaking her head at her joke. Fitz agreed, following in her soft laughter.
Skye was seriously weirded out. "Nerds ..." she muttered, turning away. She was glad when May entered to Command Centre, tapping away at her tablet. "What're you doing?"
"Sealing the interrogation room door," replied The Cavalry. They all stared at her, and she glanced up. "Coulson's orders."
The interrogation continued. Soon enough, Randolph decided to help them. He told them where the last staff was located: a monastry in Ireland (close to God). And so, they were on their way. They reached the monastry in the cover of dark night, and the cold air hit Roy's shoulders━and she was glad she had brought a jacket.
Ward joined them on the mission, which wasn't her idea━at all. If she had a say, she would tell him to rest and to take a break. But she knew he wouldn't like that. He was determined to fix his mistakes, and to fuel his anger by stopping these guys from causing destruction. And so, she let him without a word (which he was suprised by). It wasn't healthy, she knew that, but perhaps it was better than focusing his anger on his team. Randolph said that the staff tapped into an individual's darkest memories to bring out the anger and power━a terrible form of motivation. Roy wondered what Ward's was. It was wrong to be nosy, but she was curious. What had hurt him that much that he felt so much fury? She had heard Skye mention his brothers, and Roy was scared what that entailed.
He was strong, handsome, mysterious and with a dark past. Roy was curious━he intrigued her; much like the stars and biology, but in a different way. She wanted to discover Grant Ward, but because she cared about him, not because he was some sort of scientific experiment. He was a person. But he was just as interesting.
They stepped inside, and the church echoed creaks of old stone and wood. It was a medieval monastry after all. Roy's eyes glittered once again in awe, taking in the old architecture, and the early twentieth century seating and alter. The candles were nineteenth century, most likely ... but the stone beneath her feet. Roy wondered how many generations of feet walked these stones before her?
"It's been a while," muttered Randolph, looking around the monastry with a wave of nostalgia in his gaze. "I wonder ..." he walked up to the altar, and let out a chuckle, "Ah! Yes. There is is. Still here ..." smiling, he leaned against the altar, chuckling at the open bible. The rest of them surrounded him, curious as to what he was looking at. Roy's shoulders dropped when she realised it was a drawing of him. "Well, the nose isn't quite right, but ..."
"That's you?" Fitz scoffed.
"Yeah," he nodded. "They venerated me a bit as a saint."
"They're idiots," said Ward from behind, and Roy couldn't help but agree. "Where's the staff?"
"It's upstairs," said Randolph, and he nodded, determined. Leading the way, the Berserker solider walked down the aisle. Roy━settled between Fitz and Simmons━found the time to run her finger along the wood of the chairs.
They travelled up to the chior landing. Roy looked down over the wooden barrier and down to the church below, and then up at the arched roof. The reason why churches roofs were so high was to be close to God. She wasn't really religious, but she found the sentiment rather sweet and beautiful.
Randolph walked up to a singular wooden box. As he did, May narrowed her eyes around them, "It's quiet," she said.
"Why do you think I trusted them with my secret?" Randolph unlocked the box, "They take a vow of silence." He opened up the door, only to falter. Roy frowned, seeing the box to be completely empty.
"But," echoed a voice from behind the chior room, and Jakob Nystron stepped out and away from the small archway, twisting the third piece of the Berserker Staff in his hands. He grinned, "when you get them talking, they squeal."
Holding the staff up, he brought it straight down and into Randolph's chest. He fell back at the impact, hitting the stone. Roy tried to run to him, seeing the blood pooling already, but Fitz stopped her, gripping her arm tight. It was a silent message, but a strong one: not yet.
"If you want to defeat a God," Jakob brandished a second staff out at them, his gaze dark with a fierce fury. "you must become one."
Ward glanced down at the piece of the staff still stuck in Randolph's chest. Roy knew what he was going to do. She was ready━as soon as he grabbed it and pulled it out (the runes glowing orange), Ward let out a roar. Rushing to Jakob, he threw himself at him, sending the two falling over the barrier and to the landing below with a great big crash!
Roy didn't waste any time. She rushed to Randolph, placing her hands desperately on the wound in his chest. Simmons was right beside her, and checked his pulse on his neck. At the shake of her head, Roy cursed and told her to start compressions with Fitz protecting his neck and on stand-by the swap over with Simmons as she found a way to stop the bleeding. The only problem was, he wasn't human━Roy didn't know how to perform first aid on an Asgardian.
Her hands shook as she tried to think, desperately pressing them on the wound as Simmons tried to bring him responsive again. Don't freak out, Roy told herself. Just think about this logically. If in doubt, treat injury as if it was a broken bone. He's unconscious, unresponsive and bleeding severely. First, stop the bleeding and perform CPR; done ... somewhat.
"How is he?" Coulson arrived, and Roy cried out:
"I don't know what to do! He's not human!"
Coulson hovered over him next to Fitz. "He's dying."
"Yeah, we know," said Fitz, "but she doesn't understand his anatomy━"
This suddenly made something snap in Roy. "Oh, of course!" when in doubt of understanding anatomy, learn it. Logic.
Pulling up her sleeve, Agent Roy pushed her hand into the wound. She winced at the blood and flesh surrounding her fingers, and both Fitz and Simmons let out shouts of: "Oh my God━!" and "━What the bloody hell?!"
"Coulson," she ignored them, her brow furrowed as she tried to feel around his chest without causing anymore damage. "You know the most about Asgardians, help me here."
"Asgardians regenerate faster than we do," he told her. "Maybe we can keep him alive long enough━"
"For his body to heal itself," understood Roy. "Great, cool. Now, I know what I'm looking for... oh, this is very unsanitary..."
Gently pushing her hand in deeper, Roy searched for his heart. She hoped it was the same size as a human heart━around the volumne of a clenched fist. She also hoped it was in the same place, and he just had the one. For all she knew, Asgardian's could have two hearts (a Time Lord does!━And yes that is science fiction but who knew what alien anatomy was like?!). Awkwardly, she manoeuvred her hand to the left and under his bones━in other circumstances, Roy might either be estatic or grossed-out, but right now, all she could care about was saving him━when she felt his heart, she let out a breath of relief feeling it.
"Is there a tear of a rupture?" Fitz asked her, and Roy nodded.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm clamping down," she told him. Holding it together, Roy also pushed one of the arteries to the closest breast bone that was expelling the most blood.
Down below, Ward fought the raging group of norse paganists that exploded in through the church doors. Now with two staffs in his hands, he sent one up and slamming against the barrier, and Roy did her best not to jump and cause only more bleeding. Dammit, Ward! She thought to herself
After a short while, there was silence below. Roy didn't dare look down, but she felt like Ward had won against them all. Until there was another scream━a wail, perhaps. On of grief. The person who roared after touching the staff this time wasn't Ward, however━Roy heard May. The Cavalry held all three pieces of the staff together, and with a singular swing, Petra Larson was knocked unconscious.
It was then that Randolph let out a groan. Roy breathed out a smile, happy as he slowly opened his eyes. He met her gaze, and then flickered over to Coulson, muttering, "Am I dead?"
Roy let out a chuckle, pulling her hand away to see no more blood flowing out. He had healed, and Coulson shook his head in disbelief. "Apparently not."
Simmons laughed, and Fitz grinned. Coulson patted Roy proudly on the back in congratulations. She had just saved the life of an Asgardian. The smile on her face was so bright it lit up the dark room as she checked whether Randolph was okay━well, as okay as he could be. Watching her, he said, "You're easily the most beautiful thing I've seen in a thousand years."
Her cheeks turned as rosy as her hair.
✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* the well *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧
date: 18th November 2013
location: Dublin, Ireland
━━Rarely, did they stay overnight at a hotel. It was a good change. In fact, Roy thinks they deserved it after what happened. Especially May and Ward, who had both held the staff and were terribly shaken after what they had seen.
Roy soon grew tired of sharing drinks and talking about how she shoved her hand into an Asgardian chest. Fitz seemed to be bragging about more than her to Skye, waving his arms estatically as a way to recall what had happened while she was downstairs. She doesn't think they realised she left.
Walking past the bar to head upstairs to her room, Roy faltered seeing Ward sitting alone, staring at his glass that was still full. She frowned, not sure whether to just leave him there, or to say something. He spun the glass slowly around on the coaster, his shoulders tensed.
Roy pursed her lips, but she found herself approaching the bar seat next to him. Pulling it out, he glanced up, surprised to see the scientist hop up, her feet dangling down. She propped her elbows on the bar, setting her chin on the palm of her hands. She knew he was watching her, and perhaps considering leaving. But she spoke, and he stopped.
"I am so tired of Fitz telling everyone the story of how I did my job━over and over..." she shook her head, sighing. "To be honest, I just want to sleep. There's mint on the pillows, did you see that? I should stay in Ireland more often."
Hearing his chuckle, she was proud of herself. She made Ward chuckle━there must be some sort of award for that. "Overnights aren't standard," he told her, and she glanced at him.
"Shh," she said. "Let me just enjoy a night not sleeping on the rock bed that are our bunks." He managed a small roll of his eyes, and returned his gaze to his drink. Roy's shoulders slumped, and she bit her tongue, not sure whether she should mention it or not. "Really, I think you should enjoy it more than any of us, right now ... you deserve it, especially after ... well, you know ..."
Ward nodded, and took a sip. Roy sighed, setting her hands down to turn the bar stool so she could face him properly. "Look, I'm not here to ask you about what you saw, don't worry," at those words, he met her gaze. "I just ..." she tilted her head slightly, and sent him a gentle smile, "I just wanted to remind you that we're a team. No matter what, we're here for you. You can push yourself away, get angry at us━" he swallowed hard, knowing exactly what she was talking about, "━but we still have your back. You did jump out of a plane for me, so ..." Roy shrugged, trying to pass it off as a joke, "... I'm sorry but you're kind of stuck with me now. You're fault, not mine."
He breathed another chuckle. Playing with his glass, Ward took a deep breath, the smile gone to say, "I'm sorry. For before. Um ..." he set the glass down, rubbing his brow. "I'm not that guy."
"I know," she said. "We all know. We're all over it. Don't worry about it."
Ward frowned, confused. He swivelled the stool to face her too to ask, "How are you so fine with everything? What I said, that wasn't okay. It was wrong."
Clara took her own deep breath, finding herself fiddling with her fingers. Her gaze cast down, and she weighed up her options on whether to tell him. Perhaps she owed it to him, after what he's done for her. "A little Berserker Rage from Grant Ward in the form of words isn't the worst thing that's hurt me." His gaze softened, and Roy's eyes flickered back and forth from his brown eyes and her fingers. "You're not the only one with a messed up family," she decided to say.
A solemn air settled between them. Clara finally found the courage to meet his eyes again. With a smile, trying to push away her hurt, she said, "A daughter's love is unconditional ... but not every mother loves her back." He nodded, understanding. She doesn't tell many people about her mother. But with Ward, it seemed easy to say, perhaps because he had a messed up past, too with family. Clara wasn't one to push for his story, but maybe finally telling her own might help him to know that she and the rest of the team were here for him. So, she continued: "She left me after I was born, passing me off to my Dad like I was just some sort of ... I dunno ... object to let go of in like a garage sale, or something. My Dad did his best, but his degree wasn't getting him many jobs. Not when he had to look after a fussy young girl twenty-four-seven and they all wanted him to travel to the stars. So, he gave up his dream for me ... and because my mother didn't want a child. Even after giving birth to me, she saw me, probably held me in her arms, and even then, she couldn't love me." Clara sighed, shrugging. "Makes you wonder whether you're really ever that lovable to begin with. If your own mother couldn't love you ... who ever could?"
Ward's eyes flickered with not sympathy, but empathy. He understood. Just like Fitz did when she told him. They understood what it was like to not be loved by someone who matters. Pursing his lips, Ward grabbed his glass and held it out to her. A sad chuckle escaped her lips, and she took it, having a small sip. The bourbon burnt her throat, but she welcomed it.
"Anyway," said Clara once she set the glass back down. "What I'm trying to say is that if it helped, I'd rage all the time, but it doesn't, so ..."
Agent Ward swallowed the lump in his throat. Taking back the drink, he downed the rest. Clearing his throat at the burn, he plopped it on the coaster. He looked ready to say something, perhaps finally open up, but a call from Roy's phone broke up their conversation, cutting through the solemn air between them.
She jumped, pulling it out. Seeing her father's name blaring on her screen, Roy was tempted to decline the call. "I━I'm sorry," she told Ward, and went to end it, but Ward stopped her.
"Answer it," he told her, and she faltered. Roy arched a brow, frowning. "Your mother may not love you, but your father does━very much, I can see," he nodded down to her phone. "He deserves to know. If there's any advice I can give you, Clara, is that the family you do have is important to cling onto. The ones that deserve it━that care about you. And it's not hard to tell that he does, very much."
Clara Roy hated how he was right. But hearing Ward tell her, made her feel the need to answer, not decline. It made her want to be brave and finally talk to her father about what had happened. So, she nodded. Clara stood up and turned away. Answering the call, she said: "Hey, Dad ... yeah, it's good to hear your voice, too. Uh ... look," she glanced back, meeting his gaze. Ward sent her an encouraging smile, and she took a deep breath, returning one of her own before leaving him. "I ... uh ... I've been meaning to talk to you, a lot has happened these past few weeks..."
✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧
a/n: I keep publishing these chapters too often. Also, disclaimer, I'm not a scientific genius. I'm a nerd, but I'm a history nerd, so while I did a bunch of research don't quote me on medical practices okay?! Good. thank you.