It Wasn&#x27;t Personal

"You really think shit's going to go down? Because, I've got to tell you. We're filling this place with techies and people who don't know how to fight. That leaves a very small army at Coulson's beck and call, if we have to go out into the world." If you, more like. Ward would be left at home to babysit.

"Ward," he introduced, waiting a second before holding out his hand. "Nice to meet you."

#g: Niko

fallendragonov-blog-blog

"Yeah it’s kind of unnerving. This place is tense enough as it is."

"So, it's not just me feeling that 'something's coming' feeling, huh?" Ward smiled, humourless. "I thought it was the cabin fever setting in."

#g: Niko

"So, toastiness level three. Got it." She pulled out two slices and threw them in the toaster.

This girl seemed pretty peppy, for a SHIELD agent stuck in this base. Maybe she'd been dipping into the sugar before he'd gotten there. "So, I don't think we've met." He started, looking from the toaster, to her. "You're...?"

#snapshots #i: Skye #i: Coulson #i: Garrett #i: May #i: Fitz #i: Simmons

perhapsthemidnightsun

Grant Ward + following orders

It’s my fault. I let you all hollow me out. Control me.

the-lover-destroyed

He could tell Ward was telling the truth. HYDRA may not have used him as an interrogator, but he’d been one for the SSR back in the day. And while he couldn’t remember much of those days, his sense for truth and deception was still sharp. The fact that Ward wasn’t lying didn’t make him feel any better, though. His hackles remained up. He’d fought with every scrap of will he’d had to resist HYDRA and he hadn’t given in— become their tool— until they’d stripped those scraps away. They’d had to make him a thing. It pissed him off to no end that despite where HYDRA had come from, despite what it stood for, there were people who’d signed on and done their bidding, true believer or not.

He knew he should be able to forgive them if they were willing to change sides. After all, it was only the true believers who had made his life hell. People like Pierce and Rumlow, Zola and Lukin. Those who weren’t devoted to the cause didn’t get to see the Soldier. But he couldn’t help but resent those who hadn’t stood up and said no. He hated that there were those who would compare him to those looking for forgiveness, those who’d joined of their own volition. He’d fought to the last and they’d had to tear him out of his own body to make the body do what they wanted.

Not everyone can do that, Barnes. It’s not fair, you know that, but that’s the way it is. Not everyone’s willing to die for the cause.

"Must have been nice to be one of the people, instead of one of the things." He had a hard time keeping the anger and bitterness out of his voice. There was still part of him that expected a stun baton to the gut or a backhand to the face.

It was wholly obvious that Barnes wasn't willing to back down, to give his guard even an inch. It wasn't surprising. The guy had been screwed over by HYDRA, totally and completely. Brainwashed, with a machine, rather than a situation and a twisted sense of loyalty. The machine had all the finesse of Garrett, but was largely more effective. Really, it exempted Barnes of his crimes, in the eyes of, well, most everyone. It would be nice to have that kind of excuse, if it weren't for the violated, dug-around feeling it probably left behind.

At least with Garrett, Ward could pretend his head wasn't that screwed with. That he held on to some modicum of self-ownership.

He'd made bad decisions. He owned them. But that wasn't a pass, and he knew it. Didn't make it any easier to resist the urge to tense up at the venom in the other man's words. There wouldn't be a fight, of that Ward was - had to be - sure, but the angry line the other's form made? Made it hard to keep that in mind.

"Listen, Sergeant?" Probably too familiar to say that, but saying 'Barnes' sounded much too familiar. "Person, thing? It's HYDRA. If you're not upper brass, if you don't make decisions, like Pierce? Whitehall? Rumlow? You're nothing but a number and an asset. You don't get to make decisions to benefit anyone but the guy you answer to." He bit his tongue on the words 'But they wiped you like a bad hard drive, so you wouldn't know that'. Did seem wise.

#G: Bucky

"You know that weird sensation, where you feel like something's about to happen?"

#riserpg #open #starter

Fitz smiled and patted Ward’s knee again, vodka flowing through his system and making his mind feel pleasantly calm and his body relaxed. “It has been a good night. You know, since I haven’t been much use to the team, I don’t get to talk to anyone much. And…” Fitz hesitated. “Honestly, there’s only a few I would even want to talk to at this point. Anyone who is under the impression that you’re somehow a Nazi, or ever actually followed HYDRA’s or its ideas, is out - I don’t have the patience for it.” The alcohol in Fitz’s bloodstream was loosening his talk even more now. “There’s a lack of intelligence and deeper thinking if they know what happened and still refuse to believe the truth. So…my point. My point is.” He paused, frowning, then remembered. “Right. My point is, I like having someone to talk to. So thank you.”

Buzzed, or drunk - minorly, but drunk, for sure - Fitz was nothing short of comforting. Like a warm blanket. And that was a weird thought, so Ward let that one go, even if it was true. This was, by and large, the Fitz he'd drunk with before. The one who'd played brave at him across a poker table, and sassed him from the other side of a lab. It was like old times. It was nice. And Fitz, for whatever reason, whatever it was that made him so damn loyal and forgiving, was sitting there, reassuring Ward that he was done with patience for people who believed him 100% dedicated to HYDRA. "Well, in their defense..." Ward shrugged. "Not everyone's as willing as you to listen." He reached over, mimicking Fitz's knee pat from before. "But, I like having someone to talk to, too. We'll do this again."

#g: Fitz

"Alright! Toast party!" Jojo bounced over to the fridge, pulling out the loaf of bread. "What level of toastiness do you prefer?"

The girl was pretty excited about this concoction she was cooking up. Ward had to admit, it was refreshing. "Let's say not a burnt brick, but not just warm bread, either. Y'know what I mean?"

the-lover-destroyed

"Forgive me if I don’t take your word on that."

"HYDRA’s spent the last seventy years lying to me, so I’m not really in the mood to trust someone who used to goosestep to their drum. Even if he did feel bad about it later."

He swallowed, his eyes darting to the floor for the briefest of seconds. Keeping his SO alive… How many people did you kill in cold blood just ‘cause they pointed a gun at Steve? What makes that any— no. You never joined Red Skull Youth; at least not of your own free will. You wouldn’t. Not even for Steve…. Would you?

No. The difference was that Steve would never ask him to do that.

"Take my word, don't take my word. It doesn't really make that big of a difference to me. You won't be the first one to say that, and I highly doubt you'll be the last."

It was becoming a whole lot harder to care about the distrust when it came with that kind of venom, but Barnes had a different level of righteousness attached to his. For one, he'd been used by HYDRA like just another gun. Commiserating over their shared experience, though, didn't seem likely. "Not a Nazi," he repeated, tone more worn than when he'd told Skye. "Not saying I didn't do bad things for the guy... Really bad things, but I was never a true believer." Everything he'd done had been for Garrett. Hell, he hadn't even known what he'd signed up for until he was five years in debt to the man.

Did that make it okay? No. Of that, Ward was very aware.

#G: Bucky

thewinterarcher

#snapshots #i: Coulson

sciencefitz

Taking a ragged breath, Fitz set his drink down. Maybe that was enough for now. Relaxing back into his seat, Fitz glanced at Ward. “You know..it’s going to be okay,” he said quietly. “You’re doing the best you can, so just keep doing that. I know you intend to make amends. Thank you for…” He gestured at the drinks, and at Ward himself, unsure of his own point. “All of, you know, this. I like having you around again.”

Ward waited until Fitz seemed settled - and done choking on his drink - before he settled himself. It wouldn't exactly be a good thing if Fitz had a choking incident while alone with him. Someone might suspect he'd tried to 'finish the job'. The cold feeling that settled in his gut at the reality of that possibility was, to say the least, uncomfortable. Heavy and damning, to say more. "Could be okay. It's not like I'm not used to working under pressure." Ward could have said more, about how he had made a 'mistake' by becoming attached to the team; without that 'mistake', it wouldn't bother him half as much that things weren't going up at a decent rate. "Well, thank you for all of this." He replied. "It's been a good night."

#g: Fitz

the-lover-destroyed

"And HYDRA didn’t do that? I seem to remember them deciding that free-thinking Americans were the American problem."

"Oh, and there were those blase statements about my work being a gift, and giving the world the freedom it deserved. Those the blase statements you were talking about?"

"Do you see me promoting the HYDRA party line? Unless I'm missing it, I haven't been running around spray painting the logo all over every available free space."

"If we're comparing FOX news and HYDRA, I'm on board. Need you to keep in mind, here, Sergeant, my involvement only went so far as keeping my SO alive, by whatever means necessary." Never mind that, in the end, he'd failed to that end, and couldn't say he felt a lot of remorse about it - at least, not anymore. "I didn't even know you existed."

#G: Bucky

"… My parents had it all the time. So do you want some or not?"

"All right, you know what? I'm game. Not like it's going to kill me, right?" He opened on of the cupboards, reaching for plates. "Let's see what this sugar toast is all about."

"No. I was making cookies, but without eggs, no good. And sugar toast is delicious, by the way."

"Okay, cookies makes more sense. Sugar toast... sounds like something conservative parents don't want their kids eating. Which, I assume, is precisely why a spy is going to eat it."

"No, the butter and sugar goes on the toast."

"So, you're making... sugary toast? Are resources running that low?"