Summary: What if the events of T.R.A.C.K.S. played out a little differently? A Grant Ward story.

What if Coulson's team got to Quinn's mansion a little earlier? And a few other differences, like the layout of the basement of the mansion. That's irrelevant. What matters is that Grant Ward is given a choice at a moment when he is capable of making one.

Early Enough
Chapter One

"There are no wrong turnings. Only paths we had not known we were meant to walk."
~ Guy Gavriel Kay, Tigana

"May, you go 'round back. Ward, through the basement. I take the front entrance," Coulson issued his orders. "FitzSimmons, you stay put, hear me?"

The science duo nodded.

May was already trotting around the building and Ward hurried down to the door Coulson pointed. Focus. He needed to focus.

If the job was easy it wouldn't be any fun, he kept repeating, like a mantra. Those jobs where Coulson's team crossed paths with Centipede were especially not-easy, though. Ward wished Garrett had at least given him some hints about what he intended to do, what his plan was. He wouldn't be going in completely blind.

"Integrate," Garrett had said when they'd last spoken, two weeks ago. Coulson had been recovering from his kidnapping. Garrett had been pissed that the elaborate plot to squeeze information out of him brought no results whatsoever. Coulson hadn't remembered anything about his resurrection. But then Garrett had said he had a new plan. A better plan. "You stay with them," he had ordered. "Be Coulson's good soldier boy. That's all I need from you."

So Grant tried to play for Coulson's team. It wasn't without a hitch. After he'd sneaked out yesterday, to get to one of Garrett's drop-boxes and leave a message about Coulson being on trail of some Cybertek / Quinn transaction, May had intercepted him in the cargo-bay. He had joked about being restless before an op, it being undercover and all and she had bought it, albeit reluctantly. Then she'd asked him if he'd worked undercover a lot and he'd almost laughed at the irony of it. He had told her the truth about Warsaw, five years ago. Stay as close to the truth as you dare – was one of rules of deep cover job. Then you'll never mix up irrelevant details. Be as much yourself as you can be.

And believe in your cover.

Grant believed. On the train he had fought the mercenaries hired by Cybertek – had fought against Garrett. He had tried to warn Coulson, had sincerely promised Simmons that he would be back for her and Fitz and Skye. He'd felt enraged that May had been abused. But he had also been anxious about May confiding in Coulson on their affair and later about her allowing the boss to patch her up. Their easy camaraderie was worrisome. May trusted Coulson without hesitation and he believed in her, would do anything to protect her, even if she didn't need protection. If push came to shove, whatever Ward had tried to build with May through their non-relationship, wouldn't mean a thing to her.

He caught himself dropping out of character. He was analyzing things too much, worried too much. It was understandable – he didn't want to jeopardize Garrett's plans. His orders were clear though. Stay undercover. Stay with the team. Garrett knew what he was doing. He needed Ward to trust him. And Ward trusted him infinitely. More than May trusted Coulson. He inhaled a lungful of air and exhaled slowly, to get himself back in the game.

In order to fulfill his mentor's orders now, he needed to follow Coulson's orders like the good soldier that he was. He quietly opened the door and entered the low-ceilinged corridor. He had to squat a little but he moved ahead without a problem. The corridor was murky, with only a little light coming from up ahead. After a few more steps Ward neared an L-section with a staircase and noticed half-open wooden door in the corner opposite from the stairs.

He heard voices.

"If I wanted you to..." male voice spoke and hesitated. "To hurt her. You know, kill... Will you?" Ward knew that voice but he couldn't quite place it. Who was this man? Who was he talking to? And who was he talking about? "I mean, what would hurt Coulson more than to lose his pet project?"

"Those aren't my orders," responded another male voice and Ward's mind conjured an image of Mike Peterson. But Peterson was dead, wasn't he? "She's not who I'm supposed to kill." The man finished and Ward heard the sound of heavy steps and some hydraulics.

He plastered himself against the wall in the shadow next to the door. Clad in black, he hoped whoever that was, wouldn't notice him.

He was lucky. The man – it was Mike Peterson – was so absorbed with whatever goal he had, that he stormed past him and up the staircase so quick, Ward only fleetingly noticed the metallic leg and burned skin.

Then he heard Skye's voice yelling, "Wait!" and "What the hell did you do to him?" And a gunshot.

He reacted quicker than he could think.

He pushed the door fully open, located the gun first, then saw it held by a man and recognized this man as Ian Quinn. Quinn was the enemy. His gun was a direct threat to his ally, Skye. Quinn needed to be neutralized. Ward fired straight into the man's heart, then bettered with an immediate shot to the head.

The observe-orient-decide-act loop took him less than a heartbeat and his heart was beating really fast now.

"Skye?" He was at her side in the next instant and saw her clutching her stomach.

"He shot me," she whispered disbelievingly and glanced up at him. "It doesn't hurt, you know."

"No, it doesn't." Ward knew the pain took a while to register.

"But I feel weak," Skye added.

"Yeah, you do." He supported her and listened as the commotion erupted upstairs. He should be there, helping Coulson and May. But he couldn't leave Skye either.

Another quick decision and he lifted her in his arm, gently, because she hissed, and ran back down the corridor and outside. Put her on her feet for a moment, before opening the door a crack. Then wider. There was no one in vicinity. He picked her up again and crossed the few steps of open space between the building and the car where Fitz and Simmons were hiding.

"Take care of her," he ordered and was on the move right away.

This time he ran for the main entrance. In the corner of his eye he saw Mike Peterson jump out of the window at the side of the building and head for the thujas. When he got inside, Coulson and May were standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by dead bodies.

"You weren't fooling around," he noted, wide eyed.

"It wasn't all us." Coulson shrugged, even more astounded than Ward. "It was Mike Peterson. But he was... weird."

"I saw him. We'll talk about it later. Right now we gotta move. Skye has been shot and it would be best if we got her somewhere safe."

"Shot? By..." Coulson paled and glanced toward the broken window.

Ward shook his head. "Ian Quinn," he explained and added, "He's dead."

In the end Coulson ordered Ward and May to stay behind and secure as much evidence as they could before the scene processing unit of SHIELD arrived. He, along with Fitz and Simmons hurried to get Skye back onto the plane. When the SHIELD people got there, along came the message that Coulson was taking Skye on the Bus to a clinic in Zurich.

"Simmons is optimistic," May told Grant, as she hung up. "Skye's gonna be fine, but she needs a better medical care than what can be provided on a Mobile Command Station. We're gonna have to find our own way to Switzerland."

"We'll do," Ward responded, feeling as if a heavy burden lifted from his chest. He didn't even realize how much he worried about his rookie. She was so full of life, it was hard to imagine her on the brink of death.

Grant and May arrived at the clinic in Zurich seven hours later. It was night already but Coulson, Fitz and Simmons were up, waiting for news form the doctor.

"She was out of the surgery half an hour ago," Simmons told them as they sat in the waiting area. "All was fine, the bullet didn't perforate her entrails or stomach. It went clean through her liver and liver regenerates. It will take a while but it will heal. Then it lodged in the muscle right above her right kidney. All in all, Skye was extremely lucky."

"She was even more lucky that you were there," added Fitz, handing Ward a cup of hot black coffee. "One sugar, just the way you like it." He smiled with pride.

"You did a great job there, Ward." Coulson was smiling too. They were all surrounding him like he was their greatest hero and Ward felt as close to happiness as he dared.

He wasn't happy because they appreciated him, of course. He didn't care if they praised his actions, his valor and nerve. He wasn't even happy that Skye, his protégé, his bubbly rookie, would be back to her bubbly self within a couple of weeks. Well, maybe a little, he cared. He was supposed to care after all, a little bit, he was supposed to be one of them. He was one of them – and that's why he was happy, because months of his undercover job were finally beginning to pay off. He was even able to smile at Fitz and not get all tense at his affectionate back-rubbing. Strange, because he didn't feel too crowded either, when Simmons sat on the arm of the chair he occupied and talked about how she had tried to stop the bleeding and how terrified she had been, how she'd thought Skye'd been going to die, she had been so pale and faint and lifeless. But everything ended well, and here she was, Jemma Simmons, gesticulating and laughing and she wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. Would they? – next to him. And it felt alright.

"We're most likely gonna stay here all night," Coulson agreed. "The doctor should allow us to see Skye any moment."

It took a little longer, nearly half an hour more but they were finally allowed to go into her room, one by one, two minutes each, the others watching through a huge window from the corridor outside. She was asleep of course, but it was a relief to touch her warm skin, to feel her pulse under his fingers. He saved her. He kept his promise to her – to train her and to make sure she didn't end up dead before she learned to protect herself.

In the morning Garrett arrived.

"I spoke to him on the phone," Coulson explained to Ward as Garrett strolled toward them down the corridor. "Didn't tell you, because you were dozing off at the moment. Should have later but it slipped my mind, I'm sorry. Anyway, I hope it's a nice surprise." Coulson's smile was genuine. Garrett's wasn't. "Your former SO is going to help us track down Cybertek. He took over the investigation at Quinn's mansion."

Of course. Clever. Ward nodded with appreciation and only a hint of dread. Garrett was pissed with him, he could feel it in his bones. He screwed up, somehow, and there would be consequences.

"Heard your girl was shot. How is she?" Garrett shook Coulson's hand. He didn't even look at Ward.

"She's gonna be alright," Coulson beamed. "Quinn wasn't the best shot, obviously. Don't know why he wanted to kill her. Maybe she reminded him of his previous failure with the Gravitonium. Either way, he's not a threat anymore. Cybertek and Clairvoyant are. We need to find them, John."

"I'll do my best." If they only knew. If Coulson only knew who he was talking to. Garrett had it all mapped out and Ward couldn't stop feeling awe and pride for his mentor. "Can I speak with Ward for a minute?" Garrett asked in a voice that may have sounded friendly to someone unfamiliar with his ways, but it froze blood in Ward's veins. Awe and pride evaporated, replaced by a hollow cold feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Sure." Coulson nodded, patted Garrett's arm and walked away.

Garrett waited a few heartbeats, before he turned to his protege, let their eyes meet. When he deemed Coulson was far enough, he closed the distance between himself and Ward and affectionately put his arm around Ward's shoulders. Ward felt like he was on fire but he knew not to flinch. He made his lips form a smile instead. He heard Garrett's voice over the roar of blood in his ears.

"Was it you who shoot Quinn?"

"Yes."

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was following your orders. You told me to play Coulson's soldier," Ward replied automatically and only then thought that putting the blame on his mentor wasn't the best course of action.

"Shut up." Garrett looked around, making sure no one overheard. Ward hadn't noticed when he'd led them around the corner into an empty corridor. He kept on walking, pushing Ward with him. "You're such a failure, sometimes I wonder why I even bother."

"I'm sorry." Now Grant realized what that feeling in the pit of his stomach was. It was fear. He tried to explain, to apologize. "I know he was your associate. I should have remembered. But he was threatening Skye and I was supposed to be their protector..."

"Skye? You thought she was more important?" Garrett stopped, stepped away, his arm falling to his side. He glared at Ward with such disgust and hatred, Ward felt like the ultimate disappointment that he had always been.

"I was following your orders," he whimpered, like it could be an excuse.

"Were you?"

"To integrate with the team." Wrong and wrong again.

"I have a new order then."

Grant braved a look up at Garrett's face. If Garrett was going to trust him with more directions, then maybe there was hope for him yet. He waited and watched a predatory smile emerge on Garrett's face.

"You'll have to mess her up some more," he announced.

Ward didn't understand.

"Her- who?"

"Who, who? Are you really so dumb? Or maybe you care about her so much? Do you care about her?" Garrett furrowed his brows. "Is she a weakness?"

Ward's heart sped up again. "No," he breathed out, even though he still had no idea what Garrett was talking about. May? He didn't feel anything for May. Simmons? Skye? "Skye?" he whispered.

"Who else?" Garrett mocked. "She's Coulson's little pet project." Those were the words Quinn had used. "He'd do anything to save her. Just remember not to kill her. She has to be beyond what's humanly possible to fix. That's a very thin line, Ward. Can you do that?"

Grant nodded. Of course he could. He knew enough about human body to inflict the exact level of pain to be beyond bearable but still survivable. He knew where to hit to kill instantly. And where to hit to make death longest and the most painful.

"I can do that," he said.

Garrett nodded and smiled, this time with delight.

"I knew I could count on you." He squeezed Ward's arm affectionately. "Remember. My life and my health are in your hands."

t.b.c.