-Present Day, Stark Tower-

The ding of the doors opening snapped Grant's eyes forward and his attention back to the present. His brain felt fuzzy, like he'd been deep in thought for a long time. Except the elevator ride couldn't have taken more than five minutes. Was he going into shock? Was that even possible?

"Grant?"

Skye's worried voice cut into his thoughts, clearing away some of the fuzzy feeling. Her worried eyes met him from across the room where she saw beside Darcy, staring at him from a half-turned chair. Two computers sat on the long desk behind her, a third monitor mounted on the wall above them. It was significantly larger than the other two, clearly meant for displaying information for more than two people. That monitor was the only one Grant could clearly see, but what was displayed there was interesting enough to hold his attention completely.

Something that looked almost like a crude family tree was displayed on monitor. A series of names and unknowns were listed on the screen, separated in three tiers that he thought might be called levels. Some vague memory from a third grade family tree project where they'd had to map out their family as far back as they could go. At the time, he'd used the Wards thinking they were his actual family. His stomach twisted as the thought now, though part of him actually relaxed a little at the thought. Not being a Ward meant none of the crap that came with being from that family applied to him. No expectations or family name to uphold. The knowledge didn't help dispel the cold sense that came with the knowledge that he didn't know who he really was, but it did at least provide some kind of upside to this whole situation.

Shaking his head firmly, Grant forced his thoughts back to the monitor and the women working in the room in front of him. Focus. You can have a melt-down above the third grade later.

Forcing his focus back on the screen, he took a moment to actually read what was there. His name in brackets sat at the top level, with two lines leading down to the second to connect with two names. One read unknown, which wasn't really a surprise; they'd already established they didn't know who his parents were. The other box, however, contained an actual name though: Audra Noreika. They had a name to connect to him. Something in his chest twisted at the sight, but he forced it away. It was too much to even begin to hope there might be some answer.

He forced his eyes to continue following the lines down to the third level. Two more people were listed as unknown on the third level. The second unknown, listed on the right, was connected to another name listed as Sarah, presented in brackets like Grant's own name. Sarah, in turn, was listed beside the name Joseph Rogers and had a line leading back up one level, connecting to Steve Rogers. And there it was, spelled out in plain language. Their joint family tree. Their proof and understanding of Grant's connection to Steve. Unsettling didn't begin to describe it.

"What's with the brackets?" asked Grant without much thought, his eyes focusing on the presence of the marks and the fact they were only on two names on the tree. He probably should have said hello or something, but if his abruptness bothered anyone, no one said a thing.

Uneasily, Skye pointed up at the wall-mounted monitor. "The brackets around the names?" Something about the way he asked made him extremely nervous. Her voice was almost weary, like she was hoping he wasn't talking about those specific marks.

Grant opened his mouth to reply, but Darcy cut in before he could. "Brackets mean we think the name is fake. Or, well," she shrugged a little, glancing back at him, "in your case know it's fake."

His name was fake. Right. That made sense. He was kidnapped, his whole life was a lie... Of course his name was fake. Why would his name be his? Why wouldn't that be made up as well?

Immediately, his eyes fell from the screen, unable to stare at further proof that his life was a complete lie. His eyes fell on Skye instead, catching the end of a dirty look directed at Darcy. The other hacker just cocked an eyebrow in response and shrugged.

Shaking her head, Skye shot him an apologetic look and took a step towards him (when had she gotten up?) "Grant, I think you should sit down." She turned the chair she'd occupied earlier towards him as she spoke, gesturing for him to take the seat.

Steve's hand pressed softly but firmly against the space between his shoulders, urging him forward and guiding him into the chair in question. Grant didn't argue. He couldn't seem to muster he energy to.

Dropping into the chair, Grant scrubbed a hand over his face in an attempt to pull himself back together. This was too much; it was all too much.

Pull yourself together kid! Garrett's voice snapped through his thoughts like a whip. Get your head in the game and your ass in gear! Your smart, find the solution! Quit crying in the corner like a coward!

Grant winced at the last bit, but used it as motivation to take a deep breath and force everything into a box. He needed to focus on the problem at hand, listen to what Darcy and Skye had found, and go from there. This was just like every recon mission he'd ever done: research and track the target. Except this time, he wouldn't be pulling the trigger. This wasn't some stranger they were talking about. He was the target. The thought made his skin crawl.

"Grant, are you still with us?" Steve's voice helped him push everything down a little firmer, bringing his focus completely back onto the room. Something about knowing the others were there made the whole thing feel more like a SHIELD mission and less like an invasive examination of who he was and where he came from.

"Hey, superspy, can you say something already so we know you're not gonna go Rambo on us?" pipped up Darcy suddenly, causing his eyes to snap to the brunette. Her back was still to him, but she appeared completely unfazed by him all the same.

"Who's Rambo?" asked Steve, glancing at Skye. The way her jaw dropped at Steve's question was almost comical. She didn't even seem capable of answering.

Darcy looked equally shocked and possibly a little appalled. "Dude, you've been awake for like…two years. How has no one introduced you to Rambo? How did Stark fail so bad at being a guy for that matter?"

Steve's brow furrowed further as he glanced down at Grant. "Do you know what they're talking about?"

Honestly, he didn't really know either. He'd heard the name as a kid, but he'd never known what it came from precisely. "I think it's a character?"

"Huge guy, massive muscles, carries a machine gun?" tried Darcy, her look going from shocked to desperate, as if the description might jog their memories. "C'mon dude, Steve's go the excuse of being frozen in ice for half a century. You don't."

Grant just shrugged a little, allowing the indifference he'd used as a shield between himself and people before crop up. "If it was a movie or TV show, I probably never saw it. My par-," he stopped partway through the word 'parents', a voice in his head screaming the reminder that they weren't, in fact, his parents. "Um, I mean, the Wards," it felt so weird to call them that, he actually tripped on the name, "were strict about what we could do. Your guy sounds like someone from the 'low brow TV trash' we weren't allowed to watch." He made sure to use finger quotes around the low-brow bit. His parents- no, the Wards; they're the Wards now- had an attitude that had always been off-putting. Even now, quoting them made him feel like he was chewing on gravel.

"Okay, that's a cultural crime," declared Darcy, clearly appalled based on the way she was staring at them. Her finger shot up firmly, as if she were making a declaration. "We One we deal with Grant's impending identity crisis, you two are going to watch that movie. It's like not knowing who King Kong is."

"I saw that move!" exclaimed Steve, voice clearly excited. "I saw it in the theater!"

Grant almost smiled at the borderline ridiculous excitement Steve displayed. Almost. It was only almost because Grant knew the excitement that came from knowing a reference when it was a rare occurrence. He'd been the kid at the academy who knew nothing about most of the movies and shows they were talking about. It was the one thing John hadn't trained him in. It was the one part of his personality he'd never faked. Well, that and his love for board games. Those were him, through and through.

"We can watch that and the three newer ones, too," assured Darcy, smirking a little as she turned back to her computer. It was pretty clear she was trying to keep from breaking into laughter. Skye looked almost as amused, but it was superficial at best. The tension in her shoulders and her compressed lips spoke volumes.

"They made four more?" asked Steve, his brow furrowing sharply. "Why?"

"Because they could," stated Skye with a shrug, attempting to keep her voice light but failing. "You'll get used to the idea. Pretty much everything has a sequel at this point." Her eyes fell completely on Grant. One of her hands came to rest lightly on his shoulder, squeezing it slightly before she spoke. Her voice dropped a little as she spoke, softening to the caring voice that had always shaken him up before. "I'm kinda guessing you guys didn't come down to talk about King Kong remakes, though."

"No," confirmed Steve grimly, shifting a little beside Grant. A glance at the super-soldier revealed the man was in relaxed parade rest. "We came to see what you'd found. I'm guessing it wasn't much."

"Sometimes it's what you don't find that matters," stated Darcy as he began doing something on her computer. Overhead, files began to appear on the mounted monitor beside the family tree. "Like a missing senate report on an environmental impact statement."

"Or medical records," added Skye as she bent over her own computer. Grant felt like the last comment was probably aimed at him, but he was too distracted by Skye's ass momentarily to think too much about it. "And there's a lot we haven't found."

Grant felt a hand tap his right shoulder, drawing his attention sharply back up from Skye's rear. He glanced to his right, but found only Steve standing there with his eyes focused on the screen. Except when he glanced knowingly at Grant. And he just got caught ogling Skye by his second cousin from the 1940's. Great. Another stellar thing to add to the impression he was making. Except Steve's lip was twitching slightly like he was amused. What?

"So," stated Skye, suddenly straightening up and spinning towards them. It snapped Grant's attention forward again immediately. "Basically, we know what we can't find digitally and we've determined Grant's name is BS. We don't know if the name in the Hydra file is a maiden or married one and we don't know what Steve's mother's name is either because she appears to have changed it coming through Ellis Island. We have no clue if Grant's real parents are alive or dead, either. All we really know is Grant's name is fake, which isn't new, and Steve's mom's name is fake. Sarah is definitely not Lithuanian."

"Assuming he's even Lithuanian," pointed out Darcy as she finally spun towards them completely. "At this point we don't know what's going on. Grant's parents could have been Russian-born KGB agents for all we know."

His stomach twitched hard at the thought- so much so he was nearly sick. KGB agents? That was worse than a Ward. He hadn't thought anything could be worse.

"That's an exaggeration, Grant," spoke up Skye quickly, again throwing a glare at Darcy. "We have no evidence your parents were KGB agents."

"My point," stressed Darcy, tossing her own glare back at Skye, "is that right now we don't know squat and can't assume anything."

"So how do we start finding answers?" asked Steve, his lips compressing in a grim line. He gestured helplessly towards the computers in front of the women, faint signs of distress apparent in the way his eyes narrowed at the machines. "Can't these things find anything?"

"We found your dad based on what you told us about where he was from and what he did," explained Skye, gesturing towards the large monitor. The pages fanned out almost of their own volition, though Grant suspected Darcy had probably done something. Or JARVIS had. "We even found his immigrations records, his name on the ship manifest," she pointed at what looked like a really weird passport, "and the social he was issued. We found the immigration record and social for your mother, too."

"But we can't find your mom on the ship," continued Darcy, the files above minimizing to be replaced by a long list of names. "According to the records Steve, your dad was single when he boarded the ship and married when he got off. Problem is, there's no Sarah on the ship manifest. She doesn't show up until suddenly she's on Ellis Island with Joseph Rogers."

"She changed her name when she arrived," stated Grant, his mind immediately latching on to the issue at hand. A problem, that he could handle. Tracking people, doing research and tearing apart people's lives, that was familiar. He was trained to do that. It was safe. This, he could handle. "Who's on the original passenger manifest that didn't show up in the immigration records?"

"Uh, did we check that yet?" asked Skye, her brow furrowing as she looked back at Darcy. Darcy made a motion that was some cross between kinda and working on it. "I don't know if we-"

A ping suddenly interrupted her, echoing out of the monitor before a screen with four names on it appeared. JARVIS' voice echoed through the room almost immediately after. "I apologize for intruding, but I have the names of four individuals on the manifest who do not have corresponding immigration records. Two are noted as having died in transit and two simply appear to have vanished."

"What are the names of the two who vanished?" asked Grant, his mind already running through general criteria for identifying Steve's mother

"Michelle Greenstan and Alessandra Dagys," replied Jarvis crisply.

"Alessandra Dagys is the one we want," stated Grant, not even thinking twice about the matter. Dagys was a Lithuanian name- he'd spent enough time as an agent out there to know. "Can you find any other records for her?"

"Allow me a moment to check, Grant," requested JARVIS before the AI fell silent again.

"How are you so sure it's her?" asked Skye quietly, leaning towards with curious eyes.

"I spent a lot of time in Eastern Europe and Southern Lithuania on operations," explained Grant, his eyes locked on the screen above. He could feel his stoicism kicking back in as his mind shifted to agent mode. Everything he'd been feeling so far felt like it was disappearing, losing its importance. It felt good. The chaos that had been slowly driving him insane, the constant sense that he was off-balance faded away. And in its place, the sharp, focused mindset of an agent settled in.

He glanced beside where he sat when Skye didn't say anything further. Weary eyes met his, covered by a furrowed brow. The look she was giving him was a far cry from any other he'd seen on her face since he woke up. Worry immediately set in. Why was she looked at him like that? Was it something he said? He wanted to ask, even opened his mouth to do so.

JARVIS' voice suddenly cut through the room, halting any attempts Grant could have made to talk with Skye. "I have located two records that I believe are relevant to your query." Two records popped up then- neither in English. Both looked like birth records though. "One is for an Alessandra Dagys, who appears to have been born in Utena. I am attempting to locate an image." The second file came to the forefront on the screen. The handwriting was terrible. In addition, the ink had faded, further corrupting the writing in the image. "She does appear to have a sister: Ieva Dagys."

"Can you find anything on the sister?" asked Grant immediately. One sister. That had to be the mother of the woman they were looking for. What they needed now was her married name. With that, they could find any children and grandchildren she had. Well, in theory.

"What's your plan if there's more than one kid?" asked Darcy suddenly, shooting him a curious look. "How are we gonna know who your mom is?"

Grant swallowed hard at the mention of the fact they were hunting for his mother, but he forced it away. He needed to keep this impersonal. If they were going to do this, they needed his mind focused and sharp. "Then we look for someone with kids that have the right birthday or that were reported missing."

Skye's brow furrowed, giving him an almost sad look. Quietly, she moved to kneel beside him, laying a hand on his. "Grant, we're going to have to look at it as the right birth year, not the right birth date. And even then, it's going to probably be a range that includes part of the year prior."

"Skye, I know my own birthday," stated Grant, his brow furrowing slightly as he met her concerned eyes. "We can just use that-" Her words hit him then, cutting him off midsentence as his throat suddenly constricted. Of course, his birthday was just what he'd been told it was. That didn't mean it was real. Whoever brought him over probably didn't know his real birthday. And even if his real birthday had been used, there was no way for them to confirm that it had been used on any of his paperwork.

Her fingers squeezed gently around his hand, comforting and soft against the rough callouses resting along his fingers and palm. Even his time in prison hadn't eroded the sighs of time at SHIELD. If anything, fighting against the Hydra agents in the prison had made it worse.

"We'll figure this out, Grant," promised Skye softly, her kind eyes meeting his. He quickly turned his head away from hers, eyes focusing anywhere but on her. He couldn't stand to see that look in her eyes; not right then. He could feel the chaos from before bearing down on him again and he needed it to stop. Not looking at Skye helped. It let him disconnect and forget, just for a little while, that he wasn't himself. That he didn't actually know who he was.

"I have found records of four children born to her," spoke up JARVIS, his mechanized voice interrupting the conversation to Grant's great relief. More records appeared on the mounted monitor, though two fell away. "My understanding is that you are interested only in female children, correct?"

"That's right," confirmed Darcy, tapping her fingers a little. "I'm guessing you found two?"

"I have," confirmed JARVIS mildly. "Unfortunately, I have no access to further records. It appears no further information is available in a digital format."

"Which is about where we hit a dead end," remarked Darcy with a sigh.

"Meaning any further research has to be done on the ground," muttered Grant, a headache starting to build behind his eyes. He wasn't sure why this was such a surprise- why would any of this be digitized? He'd been to Lithuania. He knew the country just didn't have the technology to digitize everything. This shouldn't be a surprise. It shouldn't be stressful enough to give him a headache. Yeah, he'd been hoping they could end this easily, but he knew that wasn't how these things worked.

Idly, Darcy glanced over at Skye, eyebrow cocked curiously. "So, road trip?"

"As Lithuania is across the ocean, I would recommend flying," remarked JARVIS blandly.

Grant felt his lips tilt up a little, the bland joke somehow funny to him. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or the stress of all of this. Maybe he was just losing his mind. But he chuckled a little all the same.

Beside him, Skye's hand squeezed his shoulder a little, her own chuckle escaping a little. "Unless we take Lola. She can fly and drive."

"What?" asked Darcy, almost immediately perking up. "What's Lola?"

"DC's classic car," explained Skye with a devious grin. The same one that always made Grant feel like something was about to blow up. "It can fly."

"Wait," insisted Darcy, her own smile curling into a duplicate of Skye's own devious one. Seeing the look twice over made Grant even more nervous. They really needed to never leave Darcy and Skye alone, especially if Lola was anywhere nearby. "DC has a flying car? Oh, we are so going to give that thing a spin."

"Coulson will kill you if you do," remarked Grant, the need to stop this before it started flaring up. He was not going to be responsible for picking pieces of Darcy and Skye off the floor of the Bus… except why would he be responsible for that? He wasn't part of the team anymore. Coulson would probably make someone else do it. It wasn't his job to guard Skye anymore. He wasn't her SO.

A gentle squeeze to his hand snapped his attention back to Skye. She offered him a gentle smile before releasing him. "I'm pretty sure the Quinjet is a better option."

"Yeah, driving across the Atlantic in a flying car probably isn't comfortable," agreed Darcy, though she sounded doubtful. Grant suspected he'd missed some silent conversation between the two. She hit a few buttons quickly before pulling a flash drive from the computer and offering it to Skye. "Now, let's go cause some trouble in Lithuania."

Somehow, Grant suspected she wasn't joking.

The ride down from Darcy and Skye's little sanctuary was silent. Even Skye and Darcy were quiet, though Darcy was pretty much glued to her phone and Skye appeared to be deep in thought. Or maybe she was just thinking about how much she regretted pulling him out of that prison. He knew he'd be regretting it in her shoes. Something that should have been so incredibly easy was proving to be incredibly difficult. He'd definitely be regretting it.

The elevator slowed to a stop as they reached the residential floor, stopping a moment later. However, as Grant went to follow Darcy and Steve out, Skye's small hand wrapped around his arm and held him back. He gave her an inquisitive look, but she didn't offer a verbal explanation. Steve halted a few feet from the car, glancing back at them in confusion. However, Darcy snagged his arm as she passed, pulling him along the hall with a muttered "C'mon Stars n' Stripes, we've got to pack up".

As soon as the doors slid shut again, Skye released him and stepped back to grip the car's handrail instead. She glanced up at the ceiling as she spoke, directing her voice to the hidden microphones contained within the small space. "JARVIS, can you take us to the floor Hill uses for SHIELD stuff?"

"Shall I alert Agent Hill that you wish to speak with her?" inquired JARVIS primly as the car began to move again.

"Actually, it's DC-er, Coulson I need to speak with," corrected Skye, shooting Grant a reassuring smile.

"I thought Coulson left," remarked Grant as the elevator sank further down. "Steve said he had earlier.

Skye turned towards the doors with a dismissive wave. "Nah, Bobbi left with the quinjet to get Hunter and pick up the stuff we left in the motel."

"What motel?" asked Grant, his brow furrowing. This was the first he'd heard of a motel.

Skye flushed a little, biting her lip slightly. She remained silent, though. Grant felt his concern rise immediately, She'd only be in a motel if she had to stay close to a place she was watching. That didn't make sense because the last thing she did was break him out of the prison and she wouldn't have needed to stake the place out from a motel with SHIELD resources backing her. They would have given her a van or quinjet, something. Plus, she would have blueprints and maps to work with. There would have been no need to stay in a motel.

And she'd definitely had access to those resources. She said she'd worked with the others to get him out… no, wait, that wasn't right. She'd said some of the others. Some.

His stomach twisted uncomfortably. "Skye, what motel." She still wouldn't look at him, so Grant did the first thing he could think of. "JARVIS, stop the car for a minute and keep the doors shut." As an afterthought he threw in a "please", though it was probably unnecessary.

Almost immediately, the elevator ground to a halt. Beside him, Skye tensed, but didn't turn to face him. He wasn't really expecting her to, either. Something was amiss.

"Skye," repeated Grant, his voice tense. He wouldn't let his brain fill in the blanks. He wouldn't jump to conclusions about why Skye might have needed a motel or why things were left there. The fact they were only now being retrieved said she'd probably been there less than 48 hours ago, 72 at most. That would have been right before they pulled him out of the prison.

"The one we were staying in the night before we pulled you out," stated Skye quietly, her arms rising to cross over her chest. "Our original plan was to sneak you out by car, but that went to hell fast." She gulped a little, arms shifting to wrap tighter around her body. "Trip told us to head for the roof- apparently he'd convinced May to act as a backup extraction plan." Her tone became annoyed almost immediately as she added a quiet: "Not that he bothered to tell us."

"But that meant your stuff was never retrieved on exit," stated Grant, voice quiet. Things still weren't making sense. "I still don't understand. Coulson should have sent someone immediately." Then, the last two sentences sank in. "Wait, 'convinced May'? If it was an order, she would just do it. And why would Trip have anything to do with it?"

The resigned sigh that escaped Skye before she finally turned to face him put Grant further on edge. "There was no order, Grant. Breaking you out wasn't a SHIELD-sanctioned operation. Hell, Coulson didn't even want to accept something was wrong." Skye's angry, bitter tone was a little shocking. She almost sounded resentful. "When Coulson refused to listen, a bunch of us went AWOL. We got you out without SHIELD backup. Coulson didn't even know our plan."

Grant felt his heart rate pick up. None of this had been sanctioned. It was all done sans backup. He knew the list of things that could have gone wrong almost immediately and it terrified him. Part of him wanted to yell at her for being so stupid. Another part of him was just relived she had made it out alive.

"That was incredibly stupid," stated Grant, a scowl curling up his lip. "Do you realize you could have gotten killed? My life isn't worth yours!"

"Excuse me?!" exclaimed Skye, her eyes snapping up to his. The fury he saw in those beautiful brown eyes actually made him take a step back. "Grant, you're a super soldier experiment who was in Hydra's hands. That alone was grounds for what I did. But beyond that, I spent two weeks watching you. I watched as twice you were forced out of your cell in the middle of the night. Twice! Do you know how terrifying it is to watch anyone you know, regardless of how pissed you are at them, get dragged fighting from a prison cell? How horrifying it is when they pull that person into a secret area that isn't on any blueprints? When you lose sight of them and know there's no way to get to them?" Grant winced at her accusation. "We didn't know what they were doing to you- if you were going to survive or not! Leaving you there wasn't an option."

For a long moment, Grant remained silent, his thoughts turning back to an Italian villa and a situation where the roles were reversed. Yeah, he knew that fear. Even now, the image of her lying unconscious in that tube made his stomach drop. That didn't change the fact she could have gotten killed though. Hell, it only further reminded him of the time he- they almost lost her.

"My life isn't worth yours," stated Grant quietly, his eyes dropping to the doors. "You shouldn't have risked yourself for m-"

Sharp pain radiated across his cheek, echoing the loud 'smack' that cut through the small space. Shock followed as his eyes snapped up to Skye, one of his hands instinctively rising to cover his cheek. The fury in her eyes had doubled, now framed by an edging of unshed tears.

"JARVIS, the SHIELD floor, now," ordered Skye, her voice a harsh bark. That combined with the way she was nearly vibrating with anger was enough to shut him up. Apparently, JARVIS shared that sentiment because the elevator began to move before Skye had even finished her statement. The AI never even said a word.

When the doors opened to the SHELD logo a minute later, Skye stormed out with such forced that Grant wondered if he should stay behind. He almost did. It was only the glare she shot him when he didn't move to follow her immediately that got him moving. Her gaze was icy, promising retribution if he didn't follow.

He fell into step behind her as she turned back and continued to storm down the hall. Overhead, the lights flickered violently as they passed. It made him question the electrical system, then Stark's skills. At least it was enough to distract him from the angry woman practically clearing the halls ahead of her. Literally, he watched agents dive for cover- he would have, too.

Their forward momentum was abruptly halted when a door suddenly opened and two men stepped out. Coulson was first, followed closely by Clint, who had an arm thrown over Coulson's shoulders. Both men paused as they spotted Skye, winces subtly exchanged between the two before Coulson stepped away to face Skye.

"Everything alright Skye?" asked Coulson, shooting a suspicious look at Grant. He had the good decency to wince.

"Grant's a dumbass," stated Skye simply, the lights finally ceasing to flicker. Gesturing back at him, she added: "Also, we need to go to Lithuania. Can we borrow a quinjet?"

Grant wasn't sure what he expected from the meeting with Coulson, but that wasn't it. Skye never asked before she did something. It wasn't in her nature. Plus, she was a SHIELD agent- she didn't need to ask to use a quinjet.

"Go ahead," agreed Coulson, glancing once more at Grant. "Take someone else with you, though. Hydra had Grant once already; I doubt they'll give up."

"Steve and Darcy are coming," assured Skye, her shoulder relaxing a little. That was a good sign at least.

"I'll come along, too," added Clint, stepping up beside Coulson and squeezing the man's shoulder. "So will Nat. She'd probably know where to look for stuff better than anyone."

Skye started to open her mouth to say something, but appeared to change her mind a second later when she shut it and nodded instead. "Okay, we'll probably leave in an hour."

"Nat and I will be there," agreed Clint before he leaned over to kiss Coulson's cheek and headed down the hall. Coulson blushed a little at the sign of affection, but otherwise made no remark. At least Grant's earlier suspicions were confirmed now.

Clearing his throat slightly, Coulson motioned down the hall toward Clint's retreating back. "Skye, you should go figure out exactly what you're missing and work out the logistics of finding these records with Natasha. She'll have the best idea of how to proceed." He then glanced at Grant again. "I'll stay with Grant."

Grant felt a cold shiver run down his spine and even Skye looked reluctant to do as Coulson said. But the man's words didn't leave a lot of room for argument and what he'd said did make the most sense in terms of an action plan. Grant wouldn't try to argue and neither did Skye.

Nodding slowly, she turned to leave, offering him a reassuring look before she headed for the elevator. She couldn't hide the weariness in her gaze before she left though. It was a weariness Grant suspected might be on his own face given the reassuring look Coulson gave him before reopening the door he'd exited through earlier and motioning Grant to enter.

Honestly, Grant would have felt safer entering a prison cell. He hadn't been alone with Coulson since he awoke. After all the damage he'd caused, he wasn't sure he wanted to be. Still, he stepped into the room all the same, finding a non-descript office inside. The furniture was simple: desk, three chairs, a sofa, a computer. There was no decoration, either. If he had to guess, it was a spare one, probably for use by people like Coulson. Why Coulson would use it rather than going back to whatever base they were using, he wasn't sure. Well, actually, he suspected the reason was probably currently heading to find Natasha Romanoff with Skye.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind him snapped Grant back to reality. This was it; if Coulson was going to lash out at him for betraying the team or upsetting Skye, he was going to do it now. Mentally, he braced himself for the verbal assault he knew was coming.

"Should I ask what you said to anger Skye like that or should I just assume she's right?" asked Coulson mildly as he motioned for Grant to take a seat in one of the two chairs in front of the desk.

Cautiously, Grant lowered himself into the right seat, back remaining ridged. "I just told her that she shouldn't have pulled me out of that prison alone. That she could have been killed and that her life wasn't worth mine."

Coulson pulled in a sharp breath, letting it out in a slow whistle. His face pulled into a wince. "Maria is right; you do have the social skills of a porcupine."

Grant winced; sadly, it wasn't the first time he'd heard that. He'd always equated it to keeping himself distant for his mission, though. Apparently, it wasn't all because of the mission.

"We can work on that," continued Coulson, his voice mild, but there was an edge of kindness, too. It definitely wasn't what Grant was expecting to hear. Signing a little and shifting, Coulson opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle of bourbon, offering Grant a glass. He nodded taking a sip of the liquid as soon as Coulson handed it to him. He wouldn't even feel the alcohol, but the taste helped sooth him a little. At least the burn made him feel a little more normal- even if he could barely get drunk, he could still feel the warmth from the alcohol as it hit his system.

"Do you understand why Skye is upset?" continued Coulson over his own glass.

As much as he hated to admit it, he had no clue why she was so mad at him. It had to do with his insistence his life wasn't worth more than hers, he knew that much. But what he'd said was also completely true. Skye liked the truth.

"Grant," sighed Coulson, throwing back the rest of his whiskey firmly, "by saying what you did, you invalidated everything Skye did to save you." Coulson set his glass down lightly on the desk, using his free hand to fish something out of his pocket. He found it half a second later, tossing a rectangular leather bi-fold on the desk between them. "Take a look at that."

Curiously, Grant reached out and picked the bi-fold up. The black leather felt soft and familiar against his palm. Flipping it open, he felt his breath catch. Skye's face stared up solemnly at him from a SHIELD DI card tucked above a standard SHIELD badge. He didn't understand. "Why are you showing me this?"

"Because Skye gave it to me when I refused to listen to her concerns about where you were being kept," stated Phil quietly. His fingers tapped his glass. If it was in regret or frustration, Grant wasn't sure. "She quit SHIELD because of you, in some ways."

"Skye quit?" Grant couldn't believe he was actually saying those words. She'd quit SHIELD, because of him. She'd quit to save him. A warmth surged through his body at the thought before a wave of nausea chased it away. She'd given up her family for him. To help him, a man with no name, no identity, no family. A man who'd betrayed her. He didn't deserve that kind of devotion, even if he did turn out to be a supersoldier.

"She did," confirmed Phil calmly. He stood silently, stepping around to lean on the front of his desk. Grant found his eyes locked on the other man's shoes. "Your situation highlighted some issues we had. I can't say how much of her leaving was because of you and how much was the way I treated her, but you were a factor."

His throat tightened, heart clenching. She'd quit SHIELD because of him. SHIELD, the group she'd begun to see as an extended family. And she'd quit because of him.

"Do you think you could return that to her?" requested Coulson mildly, Immediately, Grant's eyes snapped up to his former bosses'. He could feel his jaw hanging open a little. In response, Phil just shrugged. "I never took her quitting seriously."

"So why are you asking me to give her badge back?" asked Grant, his mind still reeling over the idea Skye had quit for him. In any capacity.

"Call it a token of good faith," explained Coulson, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Plus, I'm still a little afraid she'll throw it at my head. We talked, but she might still be mad."

Grant felt his lips tilt up slightly in amusement. "SO you'd rather put me in the line of fire?"

"I doubt she'd throw anything at you," dismissed Coulson, waving his hand a bit. "Besides, you could probably catch it. I'm getting old, my reflexes aren't that good anymore."

Nodding, Grant slipped the badge in his pocket for safe keeping. "I'll give it to her."

"Great," confirmed Coulson as his phone pinged. Pulling out the device, he stared at the screen for a second before glancing back at Grant again. "I'm afraid I need to deal with this. Skye probably found Natasha by now, you should go speak with them."

Recognizing the dismissal, Grant quickly nodded and stood. "Yes, sir." The words slipped so naturally from Grant's mouth, it took him a second to register what he'd said He winced as soon as he realized his slip, but Coulson showed no sign of discomfort. Grant suspected his former boss hadn't heard the slip, to his relief. Quickly, he hurried out the door and back down the hall towards the elevator. Coulson was right, they had a lot to do before they headed out. And Grant didn't plan to just sit on his ass and let everyone else work this problem out for him.

-31 years ago, Coron Island, Philippians-

Arthur tried not to let the satisfaction show as he dropped the notebook rather unceremoniously on the desk beside where Lucy sat working. Maybe he'd get lucky and she'd jump. That would be satisfying. Something about her made him feel almost constantly out of control. It was like she somehow always managed to command every interaction they had. He hated it.

She half glanced at the notebook before raising her head to meet his gaze with a raised eyebrow. There was clear surprise in her gaze, bordering closer to disbelief. It was satisfying.

"There's your dimensions," stated Arthur, nodding at the notebook. "Everything you asked for. I included some maneuvering space recommendations, too. Too small labs are dangerous."

"Like a garage a quarter what it should be, I'm aware," assured Lucy as she plucked up the notebook and flipped the cover open. "Though I have to wonder if I could build the same machines at a quarter the size with the same efficiency."

"We didn't hire you to reinvent the wheel," reminded Arthur with a frown. If she started trying to redesign machines, it would extend this project by years and none of them could afford to wait for her to finish satisfying her ego to get on with their research. They needed these labs up and working. He couldn't go collect Grant until the labs were finished, either. And the sooner he got that kid away from his brother, the better. He didn't trust Andrew to not break what might prove Sims' magnum opus.

"No, you invited me here to design and construct your scientific safe haven," corrected Lucy, closing the notebook and setting it aside before she returned to whatever she'd been working on before. They looked like mechanical blueprints, but he couldn't make any sense of them.

"That still isn't asking you to reinvent all of our equipment and put the entire project decades behind schedule," pointed out Arthur with a slight scowl. Her borderline dismissive tone didn't sit well with him at all.

The look of utter disbelief she shot him over her shoulder conveyed exactly how stupid she thought his statement was. "You are aware I won't be the one actually building this structure, correct? My robots will be."

"Under your direct supervision," stated Arthur slowly, his brain tripping a little over the implication she was making. The robots couldn't do things on their own without her direction. That implied artificial intelligence. Science fiction.

"Did Sims happen to mention who my mentor was when I completed my first degree?" asked Lucy, her tone bordering on resigned as she finally spun around in her chair to look up at him.

Arthur shook his head slowly, a chill sliding down his back. Who could this woman have possibly worked with that she thought he'd recognize the name?

"Howard Stark," stated Lucy simply. Her fingers tapped once on the desk in front of her. "I was his assistant each summer for three months as I completed my degree. He hardly glanced at me, but I took in everything he did. The science he was working on? It was incredible. Feats you couldn't imagine. My access was limited, but I learned a great deal."

Howard Stark, one of the greatest engineers of his time. How the Hell had she managed to swing that? Well, actually, he could imagine how. She was beautiful. How Howard could turn her away, he wasn't sure. And he wouldn't be surprised if Stark had kept her around just for the view.

As if reading his mind, Lucy scowled and added: "I didn't sleep with him. One of my professors knew him and setup the arrangement. Stark literally had me working on basic pieces of projects and fetching his coffee. It was only of value because of the access I was provided."

Something in Arthur seemed to relax a little at that, but he refused to consider why. That wasn't a conversation he was ready to have with himself yet. "I'm sure you missed an opportunity."

"An opportunity to become infested with some unknown sexually transmitted disease?" remarked Lucy with a snort. "I'll pass, thank you."

Arthur almost laughed at that. She had a point there- who knew what Stark was infected with. "You could have contracted something just from working in his lab."

"Which is precisely why I always wore gloves and protective gear," assured Lucy with a touch of a smirk. "I wasn't inclined towards catching whatever he had."

A smile tugged at his lips. At least she was smart enough to be safe, even if she couldn't actually catch anything from Stark's lab. Well, he didn't think she could. There was always the chance though...

"I'm a little surprised you brought these measurements so quickly," continued Lucy, her attention now turned back towards the notebook. "I would have expected you to drag your feet to increase the chance you'd win our little wager."

"Giving you these measurements now rather than at the end of the week isn't going to make a difference," scoffed Arthur dismissively. "It's still going to take you longer than six months to complete the labs."

"How are we defining that, anyway?" asked Lucy suddenly, setting the measurements aside once more and refocusing once again on her blueprints. She looked them over for maybe a few seconds, then suddenly stood and turned towards some pile of twisted metal sitting beside her. She picked up a bar and spun on slowly in her hands, eyes tracing the metal as her fingers slid over the surface. It was hypnotizing and Arthur momentarily forgot to answer her question.

"I can simply assign a definition if you'd prefer," continued Lucy, her voice dropping an octive. Arthur's eyes snapped up to hers almost immediately, catching the knowing smirk that had crossed her lips. Shit.

"Complete as in ready for us to move in and begin working," defined Arthur quickly, clearing his throat somewhat when his voice cracked slightly.

Lucy snorted faintly, rolling her eyes. "That will be a section-by-section occurrence. Shall we define it as complete when the final section is functional?"

"That works," muttered Arthur, suddenly feeling the marked need to escape her presence. God, he couldn't believe she'd caught him staring like that. He couldn't believe he'd allowed himself to be so distracted as to allow himself to be caught.

Lucy blatantly gave him a once over before turning back to her metal parts and setting a few more pieces aside. "There should be an order of construction materials arriving in the next day or so. If you can, have them placed on the far side of camp. I've cleared an area for their storage. Otherwise, I will move them later. Just do not allow the delivery men to simply drop the materials where they sit." Turning back to him again, she added: "There will also be a box of rare metals, a few bags of sand, and several metal cases containing circuitry materials. Those I need delivered here."

"I'm not your assistant," stated Arthur with a growl. The nerve if her, assuming he'd be taking in the shipment. He had better things to do. "This is your job. You're responsible for receiving the materials."

"Except I won't be here tomorrow," stated Lucy mildly as she set a few more pieces of metal aside. "I need to hop an island over where they have a scrap yard."

"A scrap yard," repeated Arthur incredulously. They weren't paying her to build a shoddy building out of recycled parts. There was no way that would be safe.

"I need a few specific components for my robots," stated Lucy, as if reading his mind. "Even if they are largely autonomous, I still need to establish a command center of sorts. And for that, I need specific computer components I don't particularly want to order."

"Why?" asked Arthur in disbelief. It would be so much easier to just order what she needed, she should just get whatever she needed delivered.

"Because when you order transceivers in packs of a hundred, it tends to draw attention," replied Lucy mildly, shooting him a look that implied she thought he was short a few marbles. "Particularly when you are having them delivered to a remote island where there is no valid reason for their delivery. And given I was under the impression you wanted to remain under the radar, I thought I would see if I could get some of what I needed from a cash-accepting establishment with little to no oversight and no means of teaching the transaction."

Arthur felt his cheeks heat at her remark. When she put it that way, her logic made sense. Part of him riled at her tone and made him want to snap at her. And snap he did. "Well, just get what you need then and get back here. I'm not your assistant and I'm not going to just accept orders for you."

Lucy rolled her eyes and waved her hand at him dismissively. "I will be certain to reward your effort."

The dismissive action and tone immediately caused him to bristle. How dare she dismiss him? He was one of the scientists who'd be utilizing this facility. She was just an engineer. Yes, they built most of the equipment utilize by the scientific community, but she had no right to treat him like an underling.

"You can reward my effort by getting to work on constructing our project," growled Arthur, glaring at her even though he suspected she didn't notice a thing except the pieces of metal she was studying. He knew that look; it was a common one around the camp.

"I'll be sure to let you know when I break ground." Again, her tone was dismissive, though there was a distance to it that implied she was thinking about more serious things. Things that were going to make Arthur do something drastic if he kept trying to talk to her.

Turning away, he just barely avoided storming out of the room. He had better things to do than argue with that irritating engineer anyway. He needed to push through with his research. Soon, he'd be ready to start running human tests, but that meant he needed to figure out how he was going to do that. Arguing with Lucy made him want to work anyway, so he might as well start now.