AN: I know I have a lot of stories going, but this just would not leave my mind. I don't know how regularly this will be updated, so I highly doubt it will be like A Different Path, which already has thirteen chapters in less than a month. First, a few notes before the story begins.

Note One: This is an Academy AU with a lot of adjustments. Garrett is not, nor was he ever, Hydra. However, he is still a cruel person.

Note Two: There will be differing perspectives, but a lot of it will be from Grant's. His point-of-view is the one I am most comfortable writing, but since this revolves around several characters, it will not be the only one.

Note Three: I made some changes to Grant's time in the woods, including the amount of time that he was there. It isn't a big difference, but I adjusted it to four years instead of five. Just a heads up so nobody gets confused.

Lastly, I hope you guys and girls enjoy.

Quite frankly, nineteen-year-old Grant Ward was unamused. This was the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy for fuck's sake. It was supposed to be a difficult training regime – a program where people learned from the greats. This freshman class was pathetic at best. Not even a week in and Grant was already bored out of his mind. Garrett's training was way more advanced and demanding than this. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s first Operations lesson for the freshman class was mind over body. Throughout the lesson, the students sat in desks and listened.

Mind over body had been Garrett's first lesson too. The only difference was that Garrett taught it by shooting him in the side and making him patch up the wound. A much more effective method than this. What would these people do when they were injured in the field? They were learning this under a controlled environment. They would have no clue how to act when there were unpredictable factors, when there were assailants closing in on them, or when they had to patch themselves up on the go.

He stared at the guest speaker, Phil Coulson, with a hollow look in his eyes. Garrett had told him about this man. Supposedly, he was a decent guy, but Garrett thought him soft. Then again, pretty much everyone was soft according to the older man. Everyone except his trainee, of course. Garrett had molded him into a man, someone who wouldn't be messed with again. And for that, he was eternally grateful.

Still, he could not shake the feeling that he knew the man's name from somewhere, even before Garrett had told him. He pushed it to the back of his mind, just like his mentor had taught him.

Taking in Coulson's soft smile, perfect business attire, and relaxed attitude, Grant couldn't help but agree with his mentor. S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't need to be taught by softies. They needed more people like Garrett. People who didn't accept failure, who were willing to discipline, and who didn't give a rat's ass about how they looked. Grant was pretty sure Garrett was the only adult he had seen at the academy who didn't wear a tailored suit.

The talk that Coulson gave veered into the topic of being aware of your surroundings, something else that his mentor had taught him, albeit differently. Not only had Garrett dropped him in the middle of some woods in Wyoming for four years where he learned to adapt, survive, and hunt, but the man had set up obstacles for Grant during their training sessions. One time, the older man had come by with a smile plastered on his face, nets in one hand, and rabbit meat in the other. Garrett had created a meat necklace out of the rabbit and shoved it over Grant's head before setting up nets. The goal? Outmaneuver the wolves that Garrett had let loose while avoiding the nets and other traps. The lesson? Pay attention to everything. After that day, it was never something that he forgot.

"Grant Ward, right?" called Coulson from the front of the class.

Several sets of eyes turned in his direction, but he ignored them, focusing on the man speaking. "Yes sir."

"If it's alright with you, I'm going to use you as a guinea pig. List several things you notice about this room or the occupants in it."

Without glancing away, he replied automatically. "Two exits. One to the left of you and one in the back corner of the room. The person one row behind me and two seats to my right has a spitball aimed at the back of my neck. Based on the wind draft in this room, one of the ceiling panels is false and leads to a small attic. Also, the student in the middle of the back row is currently playing Galaga on an Android."

As well as other things. Like the stupid oaf next to me has his backpack sticking into the aisle and is most likely going to trip on it when he tries to get out of his seat.

The student aiming a spitball lowered his hand, remaining quiet.

"Lance Hunter!" said Coulson, staring at the teenager in the middle of the back row – the one playing games on his phone.

"Yes sir?" asked Lance, a British accent evident in his voice.

"What level did you make it to?"

Are you fucking kidding me?

"Seventy-six, sir," was Lance's reply as he turned off his phone.

Coulson smiled. "Good man."

This is the organization Garrett works for?

"And Grant, excellent work," complimented Coulson, nodding in his direction.

"Mind if I sit here?" asked a female voice.

Grant glanced up from his salad to see a rather attractive Asian wearing a zip-up jacket, her black hair falling to mid-back. He had seen her earlier that morning in class. Shrugging his shoulders, he resumed eating his lunch. She took the seat across from him, eyeing him curiously.

After a few moments of silence, she began talking. "Grant Ward, right? Impressive deductions earlier today. You didn't even look around, yet you somehow knew where everything and everyone were. How'd you do it? The name's Kara, by the way. Kara Lynn Palamas."

He returned her greeting with a grunt of acknowledgement. People skills weren't really his thing. It wasn't very often that Grant didn't immediately dislike a person, but he didn't think Kara was too bad. He just wasn't good at communicating. Solitude was his thing. Making friends was not. "It's a survival instinct," he replied. "A lot of people don't bother learning it, but I saw its worth when I was younger."

He didn't elaborate farther. It wasn't the complete truth, but it wasn't a lie either. He couldn't reveal the whole truth, otherwise Garrett would be in trouble. He didn't understand why. Garrett was just helping him. It wasn't like he was doing anything bad by teaching Grant how to defend himself. Sure, his ways were unorthodox…but the results were extraordinary.

"You don't like talking to people, do you?" she observed.

He shrugged, not taking his eyes off his food. "Communication isn't my forte. And I don't really like people in general, so…"

Kara nodded, taking a sip of her water. "Well, since you're talking to me, I guess you came to the conclusion that I'm not that bad?"

Slowly, he nodded. Kara wasn't bad at all really. She seemed nice, down-to-earth, and serious when the situation called for it, which was a good thing. Because if there was something Grant couldn't stand, it was people who were never serious. It annoyed him to no end how some people refused to acknowledge when it was time to be serious or respectful.

"This seat taken?" asked Hunter, who stood beside Kara with an expectant look on his face.

She gave Grant a hesitant glance before replying honestly, "No."

"Good," was all the Brit said before plopping down next to her.

Exhibit A.