Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Fitz was just in the lab when the rest of the team walked in. He refused to stop tinkering on the D.W.A.R.Fs but did look up quickly to show that he’d acknowledged their presence.
“We’ve got a case about some supposed alien activity and we need to head out and check it out. I was hoping you could help us with something though.”
“With what?” his face remained glued to the machines.
“Shield doesn’t have an appropriate base close enough to the site. So since the case is in Scotland near your area, HQ asked if we could use your house as a base. That is of course if your parents don’t mind. Fitz?”
The boy’s hands were frozen and shaking slightly as he put down the tools. “I’ll call to tell ‘em we’re comin’. Excuse me.” And without a single glance at the others left the lab, his shoulders slumped.
“Something’s not right here.” said Skye. “Shouldn’t he be happy to go back home?”
“Obviously he either doesn’t want us to meet his family or his family to meet us.” stated Ward in his usual cold fashion.
“Are you suggesting he’s ashamed of us?” asked Simmons, her voice barely above a whisper and her face now etched with worry.
“No,” cut in Coulson, shaking his head. “If that was the case I’m sure Fitz would tell us. It’s probably nothing.”

***

It didn’t take long for them to get to Scotland, especially since the journey was filled with packing bags all with ‘Fitz approved clothes’ suitable for Scottish weather. However on arrival, due to Scotland’s curved nature it was rather hard to land the plane anywhere near as well as inconspicuous. Since most of the fields were used by the horses and their riders, they decided that they could leave the Bus at the closest runway. And so they were all waiting for the ramp to descend before stepping out onto the empty tarmac with their bags and equipment.
Well the tarmac was empty except for a single car. It must be said that the team could barely suppress their gasps as their looked at the car, a magnificent Rolls-Royce phantom, 1960. And leaning against its sleek black exterior was a man, approximately in his late 40s or so. As soon as Fitz saw him he couldn’t suppress a wide grin and before anyone could ask anything, he dumped his bags on the floor, running into the man’s laughing arms, whose smile revealed two worn dimples in either cheek. His hair was a luscious brown, with visible streaks of white that was cropped short under the tweed flat cap. In fact the man was dressed only in thick tweed; the jacked even had the elbow patches that Fitz was so fond of.
After a few pats on the back the man held Fitz at arm’s length, looking up and down at the young man.
“Why laddie, ye’ve out done yerself this time! God I’ll only have grey hairs by th' time ye return to this pace.”
Fitz’s face melted into worry. “I’m sorry; I’ll try to come sooner next time.”
“Nah lad, I’m just messin' with ye. Goodness knows ye deserve to be away from this place.” He waited for Fitz to smile again before turning to the others. “Now who are these bright lads and lasses Fitz?”
“Well this is Skye, Ward and May. This is Simmons my lab partner,” Fitz pause allowing the other man time to shake their hands “an’ the director of the team, Coulson.”
“A pleasure to meet ye Mr Coulson.” He said as he grabbed Phil’s hand in a firm handshake while Fitz had started putting his bags in the trunk.
“I’m sure I speak for everyone in saying that it’s lovely to meet Fitz’s dad after working with your son for quite a while.”
The man paled, the smile falling from his face for a few seconds before he turned to Leo.
“Lad, what have ye been tellin’ them?”
“Uh Mr Coulson… Malcom isn’t my dad.” said Fitz, his face now finding the tarmac increasingly interesting.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean any offence…” began Coulson.
“Nah,” he said waving away the apology “Ah can see how come ye’d say that. Practically raised that wee laddie myself. Na, I’m th' grounds keeper Malcom.”
“Well it’s still a pleasure to meet you.”
“Cheers. Now let’s start headin’ over or we’ll be caught in th' mirk.”
“Rule one of Scotland guys, don’t get left out in the dark.” said Fitz with a smile but they could all hear the underlining seriousness of the matter. They all filed into the car, Fitz taking the driver’s seat beside Malcom.
“Mind you, when 'twas 20 minutes till nicht and Fitz 'ere was a’wonderin’ around th' hills. I tell ye! I swear to god I was gunna get down on my knees and pray to th’ devil to bring him home.”
“It was one time Malcom.” muttered Fitz, his cheeks now red which Malcom gave a hearty chuckle at.
“I don’t mean to be rude,” said Ward from the back “but do you even know how to drive this thing?”
“OF course he does lad!” replied the grounds keeper with a grin “Who d’ye think tinkered with it whenever he could and begged me to let him drive at th' age of nine. Mind ye, he had to have boxes attacked to his feet to reach th' pedals but he drove that motor once he could handle th' tractor.”
Malcom smiled at Fitz as he brought the car to life.
So with a purring engine and Malcom’s constant chatter, they sped off into the Scottish hills.

***

Despite Fitz’s accent becoming heavier by the minute and Malcom’s being already as dense as lead, the team was able to understand some of what they were saying. However, certain phrases were so quick and even in Gaelic that the team was left a little clueless. Nether the less they all felt better seeing Fitz laugh and smile at Malcom’s stories about what he’d been missing, like the disappearance of Mrs Hangler’s horse.
“Turns out they found it in th’ valley.” translate Fitz since the team had shot him multiple quizzical looks.
“Ah, here we are.”
And here they indeed were, pulling up before the old stone mansion. Its grey brick walls looked all the darker in the fading light, yet the last red tinges of the setting sun stained the walls red. It even brought out the green ivy that climbed up the walls.
“It’s startin’ to reach th’ tower.” Commented Fitz, his neck craned up to look at his home as he killed the motor.
“Aye, that it has.” Malcom sighed. “Ye’ve been gone too long.” The smile on his face was a sad one, yet not accusing. But it soon disappeared. “Go on inside while I take th’ car round.”
“Not before we take our bags out.” Fitz was already out of the car and heading towards the trunk.
“Now Leo, I’ll…”
“No, ye always were stubborn Malcom,” replied Fitz his tone clearly full of affection. “We’re all capable of takin’ our own bags. Besides I don’t want to see ye luggin’ all this up th’ stairs.”
“Really Mr Malcom.” cut in Coulson “It’s really nothing new for us.”
After Malcom finally gave up and he’d driven off to store the car, they picked up their belongings and followed Fitz to the door.
“Um Fitz,” began Skye “how are supposed to get in if you don’t have a key?”
Fitz merely smiled. “Ye’ll see.” he said as he pressed the second doorbell on the door’s side.
Nothing. The bell didn’t make a single sound.
Fitz pressed the bell twice more with a pause in the middle, and it rang noiselessly to the great confusion and worry of the team.
Ward sighed “Fitz, I don’t think...”
Then they heard it. A distant bark and the running of paws. Soon there was a rather large dog rushed up to the door which then miraculously opened, much to the amazement of the team.
“Hey there lass,” said Fitz as he attempted to stay upright as the dog flung itself at his owner. “How are ye Lotte? Come on, off ye go.” He said as he pushed the canine through the doorway, allowing his friends passage inside.
“How did she open the door?” asked Coulson, knowing that no one had quite grasped the mechanics of the situation.
“Th’ bell is calibrated to ring at a frequency above 20kHz which of course while not in human hearin’ range is within a dog’s. So I trained Lotte to come open th’ door when someone rang th’ special doorbell 3 times with a few seconds break between rings.”
“That is quite ingenious Fitz.” commented Simmons with a smile.
They all stood staring at the rather imposing staircase that reminded Simmons of the beauty and the beast one. However Lotte, being accustomed to the grandness decided to sniff all the new people. Eventually she seemed to decide that her favourite was Ward, who was now petting her grey head.
“What breed is she?”
“Scottish deerhound,” Fitz replied “and before ye ask Simmons, yes I did name her after Charlotte Auerbach th’ geneticist.”
“I knew it!” Simmons cried out in happiness.
“Well I should probably show ye yer rooms.”
Telling them to leave any lab or other equipment, Fitz led them up the right side of the staircase onto the second floor. There were four bedrooms with their door open, indicating which were destined for the guests. The last one’s open doorway however allowed light to flood into the corridor, and that is where Fitz headed straight for.
Inside, they found a small old lady with pure white hair pulled back in a bun, making the bed. As soon as she caught sight of him a huge smile took place on her lips. She lay down the sheets and quickly moved to hug the young man.
“Well if it isn’t my dear Leo.”
“Hello Allison.”
She pulled back, both hands cupping his face. “Ah look at ye. I thought ye said ye’d eat enough!”
“I do!” replied Fitz, feeling more than a little self-conscious as she poked his meagre frame. “Ye always say that.”
“Just as any cook should my dear.” she retorted with a mischievous grin before looking behind him at his guests. “So are these th’ people ye’ve been living with?”

Chapter Text

After having introduced his friends for a second time, Fitz proceeded to help Alison finish th’ bed, blatantly ignoring her constant pleas for him to not.
“I’m starting to get the impression that he doesn’t like being the ‘master of the manor’.” May said to Coulson.
“I’ve a feeling you’re right.” sighed Coulson as he unpacked his bag. The rooms were all rather large and luxurious. “I still can’t believe he lived here as a kid. Why do you think he didn’t tell us?”
“Well I for one understand that he didn’t want us judging him on where he grew up.” said May “It must have been tough to have friends when he was younger. At a young age some people are more attracted to power and wealth than actual friendship. I doubt Fitz never met someone like that. He just doesn’t want to be treated differently.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Hey guys, I’m goin’ to head down to the lab now. Would ye like to see it?” came Fitz’s voice from the corridor.
“Yes please.”

***

“Wow.”
That really was the only way to describe it. It was a mesh of the old brick and stone building with the smooth white plastic and granite workbenches. One of the walls was completely obliterated by rows of cabinets, all filled with tools and other machines. And to Simmons’ great joy one of them was entirely filled with the apparatus of a chemistry set. The room was immaculate, the tables gleamed under the bright lights that hung from the ceiling making the room sparkle with what Fitz would call 'scientific magic' - magic of course meaning something wondrous and not something unknown.
“How did you make this Fitz?”
“Well, I didn’t really…”
“Stop bein’ so modest lad. I remember ye bein’ up all night desperate to finish this place so ye could have yer very own lab.” cut in Malcom with his now familiar grin. “Alison threatened to sedate him if he didn’t go to bed.”
“Thanks for keepin’ it clean Malcom.” Fitz said, his cheeks flushing under the memories.
“Ye’re welcome lad.” replied the grounds keeper as he ruffled Fitz’s curls affectionately. “Now I’m a goin’ to let ye settle in here while I go and help Alison with dinner.”
“This really is amazing Fitz.” said Simmons as she started emptying her lab box.
“Yeah, I can’t believe you made this.” Skye said, her head titled to look at the ceiling.
“Well th’ house had three wine cellars, so I thought I might as well turn one of them into a lab. Got Alison off my back about me leavin’ my inventions everywhere.”
“Thank you so much for letting us use your house Fitz. We really do appreciate it.” said Coulson with a smile.
“Don’t worry,” replied Fitz “let’s just finish this case as quickly as possible.” And with that he left the others in the lab, all with shocked expressions on his face.
“Something is not right here.”
“I agree with Skye. Fitz seems so happy around Malcom and Alison as if they were his family.”
“They are his family.” cut in May.
“Then where is his dad? Where is his mother?”
“Maybe Alison and Malcom are his adopted parents?” suggested Skye
“No, that doesn’t fit with why how he acts around them. And Malcom said he ‘practically’ raised Fitz. If he was his adoptive father he would have raised him period.” Coulson shook his head. “No there’s something we don’t know.”
“But please don’t go putting your nose in his life.” begged Simmons “If he doesn’t want us to know yet we should wait until he’s ready and make sure he knows he can trust in us.”
“Good idea Simmons. I think the more we push on this one the more he’ll clamp up.”

***

May was had decided that her black shield attire was not appropriate for the cold Scottish weather and now that night’s chill had settled in, she was surely going to need something warmer. Most of the team had already done so, due mainly to Fitz’s insistence. She had been busy talking to the Hub trying to get as much information on the case as possible. She had decided to put on thick black corduroy trousers when she heard the voices outside her door.
“Leo lad, it’s dinner.”
“Ok let’s head down.”
“Leo…”
“Yes Malcom.”
There was a pause. “I was sure ye wouldn’t want me to say this in front of th’ others because I know how ye are, but… I thought ye should know, yer dah’s coming th’ day after tomorrow.”
Silence filled the hall, so thick that May could almost see it seeping beneath the door from the hall.
“Ok.” Fitz’s voice was merely a whisper.
“Come here.” came Malcom’s voice, his tone clearly filled with sadness as he hugged the young man. “It’ll be fine, ye’ll see lad.”
Only when she was sure that they had left did she head down the stairs.
Fitz had insisted that they eat in the smaller dining room next to the kitchen, which was already heated by the ovens. It looked just like a family meal, and the food smelled wonderful.
To Fitz’s great joy, Alison had made Scotch pies, which apparently had been Fitz’s favourite since he was 8. They also consumed two large apple frushies over which Fitz and Simmons had a rather lengthy argument as to whether it was the same as an English apple pie. Both Phil and May found Alison and Malcom to be very pleasant company and kind people which they’d spent the whole dinner talking with. At the meal’s end Malcom had left the room only to return with his hand clasped round a small bottle of scotch and small glasses.
“Let’s see if ye can still hold ye liquor.” he said with a smile.
“I can hold my liquor just fine thank ye very much!” replied Fitz, feigning annoyance.
“You drink scotch?” asked Ward, his eyebrows raised into his hairline in disbelief.
“What kind of a Scotsman can’t drink scotch?” asked Malcom as if to say “OF course he can!”
And so they spent the rest of the evening laughing and Phil and Ward eventually joined the two Scotsmen with the alcohol as soon as Alison began drinking again. By the time they went to bed, Phil felt a pleasant buzzing surrounding his body. Worrying about Fitz would have to wait till tomorrow.

***

Looking over the fields in the early Scottish light, Simmons couldn’t help but smile. It was almost like dear old England but not quite. Better that America though which lacked the threat of rain and clouds yet the joy of the sun.
They were heading over to the area where alien activity was first detected. To be specific, it was inside a ravine that stretched for over 10km and was a rather large depth that Simmons didn’t want to think about. They’d released the D.W.A.R.Fs down into the darkness while the other team members had walked along the ridge with handheld detectors. Due to the lack of equipment available, Coulson decided to pack up. They had just finished when Fitz suddenly cried out.
“Max!”
The whole team looked across the hills in confusion. Ward was the first to speak. “Fitz there’s no one there.”
“Yes of course there is can’t ye see him?” replied Fitz before placing fingers in position and letting out a huge wolf-whistle. Then came the sound of hooves to reveal a black horse heading for the team. The horse, which they all presume was Max, slowed down right in front of Fitz to playfully nudge his shoulder. And by a playful nudge, it was more like an attempt to topple Fitz over making the young man laugh heartily.
“How are ye?” he patted the horses nose “How’s my great Friesian?”
“He’s beautiful Fitz,” came May’s voice to everyone’s surprise but it only seemed to make Fitz smile wider.
“Thank ye. I still remember th’ day he was born. Could barely stay standin’ for long. Now look at ye!” He paused and turned to Coulson “We’re finished here aren’t we?”
“Yes Fitz we are. But why…”
Before Coulson could finish his sentence Fitz had swung his leg over the horse, thanks to a small running start, before grabbing onto the horse’s main.
“Well then, I’ll see ye all back at th’ house.”
“But Fitz how are you going to ride without a saddle?” Skye’s face seemed a mixture of worry and humour.
“What do ye think I spent my entire childhood doing lass?” And with a cheeky grin on his face, he dug his heels into the horse’s side before gallivanting off.
Coulson smiled before shouting “Come on team, let’s try and beat him!”
Despite May’s disapproving stares they all piled in and sped down the road. But due to the road’s Scottish nature of constantly twisting, it was a good 5 minutes before they caught sight of the Black stallion with the young engineer atop.
Since May was at the wheel Coulson couldn’t help but notice how young Fitz seemed. His face lacked any of the tiered lines of worries that had littered his face for the past few months. It was good for them all to have a slight break even if they were still working a case.
Seizing the relatively flat plain before him, Fitz straightened his back and opened his arms to feel the wind rush past him. He whooped in joy as the horse sped down the grassy fields and the blue sky stretched out before him. At least for a while he could forget the world and just feel the sun.
Although Fitz rode valiantly bare-back much to the teams surprise, he wasn’t able to beat the team to the house. They all proceeded to inspect the magnificent horse and May even got Fitz to promise her a ride. It was with an excited atmosphere that they all went down into the lab to get results. The younger agents headed over to the back of the lab to look over the details collected. Malcom came with offerings of tea and coffee for them and ensued a conversation with Coulson and May in the labs corner.
“So how long have you worked here?” asked Coulson.
“Well my dah was th’ previous keeper a long time before Master was even born. In fact I was born merely eight years before Master. I worked since I was thirteen on th’ fields before me dah died and I was appointed his position. I was nineteen at th’ time.” Malcom smiled. “I’ve been here ever since. Gave me th’ chance to watch that little one grow up.” he said proudly nodding towards Fitz.
“So you must know his parents very well.” said May, hoping to get some information on Fitz’s illusive parents.
A sadness suddenly took hold of his features. “Ah, his parents.” Malcom sighed. The silence stretched on as the older man gaze focused on the young Scot, his eyes full of love and sadness.
“Let me ask ye a question.” he finally said as he turned to look the agents in the eyes.
“Go ahead.”
“Do any of ye call Leo by his full name?”
“What you mean Leopold?” Coulson raised his eyebrows in surprise at the question.
“Aye,” nodded the Scot “Have ye ever called him that?”
“No.” they both replied wondering where this conversation was going.
“Well that’s because only one person calls him that, and this person is not one he gets on well with.”
“You mean…”
But Coulson never finished. No, he got cut off by the look of pure fear and shacking that took hold of Fitz due to the impossibly loud shout that echoed through the stone walls, consisting of one word.
“LEOPOLD!”

Chapter Text

“Let me ask ye a question.” he finally said as he turned to look the agents in the eyes.
“Go ahead.”
“Do any of ye call Leo by his full name?”
“What you mean Leopold?” Coulson raised his eyebrows in surprise at the question.
“Aye,” nodded the Scot “Have ye ever called him that?”
“No.” they both replied wondering where this conversation was going.
“Well that’s because only one person calls him that, and this person is not one he gets on well with.”
“You mean…”
But Coulson never finished. No, he got cut off by the look of pure fear and shacking that took hold of Fitz due to the impossibly loud shout that echoed through the stone walls, consisting of one word.
“LEOPOLD!”

***

Simmons was sure that if there had been any lab equipment in Fitz’s hands when that terrifying voice boomed through the house, that they’d be a conical flask and petri dish short. And of course with glass on the floor. Having thanked god Fitz’s hands had lacked any contents; Jemma regarded the petrified state of her friends. His pupils were dilated, his breathing quick and short. Add that to the tremors that coursed his frame and the look on his face and you had the perfect example of a man that felt as trapped as a caged animal. Fitz turned and strode quickly over to Malcom, his face quite a few shades paler than before.
“I thought ye said he’d be back tomorrow!” his words without any hatred, just pure fear.
“That’s what he said. Turns out he changed his plans.”
“But I have to look over th’ samples because they might be time sensitive…”
“LEOPOLD!” came the shout a second time.
“I think ye better go up and see him lad…” said Malcom, his hand now on the boy’s shoulder.
“No,” Coulson shook his head “We’ll go up and talk with him first.”
“That’s really not necessary…”
“Fitz, we’ll go up and introduce ourselves and that will give you time to finish the samples with Simmons, and to collect yourself. Ok?”
Fitz eventually nodded and watched as his team, minus Simmons, walked up to meet Leofs father.

***

Waiting in the main hall was a man around six-foot one, dressed in a suit that would rival Coulson’s. His hair was a dark chestnut brown that showed no signs of the curls that framed his son’s head. In fact nearly nothing except for the angular slightly thin face outline held any resemblance to Fitz. One would have thought that even that spark of mischievousness would have been found in the man’s eyes but they only held a void, a bottomless pit. It made Skye shiver.
“Who are these people Malcom?” he asked sharply, his gaze never leaving the team. “And where is my poor excuse for a son who has suddenly decided to return.”
“Leo is downstairs in th’ lab with his partner inspectin’ some…”
“So he’s hidin’ then.” The man grinned maliciously. “You can’t hide forever LEOPOLD!” he bellowed, this time aiming the heavily accented sound at the stairs now that he knew where the boy was.
“He isn’t hiding Mr Fitz,” came Coulson’s steady voice, showing no hint of the discomfort the man before him was obviously causing him. “The samples are time sensitive and so he and Simmons have to inspect them now or we risk losing data that may be valuable to the investigation. He asked that you excuse him until the tests are finished.”
The man laughed. “Is he now? Well we might as well get to know each other. Come.”
They followed him into one of the rooms just off the main hall, which had two leather armchairs in front of the fireplace accompanied by a rather large sofa.
“Make yourselves at home.” He gestured to the seats. “Just don’t take this one,” he said patting one of the armchairs. “I rather dislike people takin’ what’s mine.” His eyes scanned the guests again before heading over to the small table in the corner which held the crystal bottles and glasses.
“I’m guessin’ my son didn’t give you th’ proper Scottish greeting of scotch or whiskey,” he said as he poured out the light liquid and added the ice cubes.
“It wasn’t the first thing he did but we did try some scotch.”
“Was it to your likin’?” He handed glasses round the room, not meeting anyone’s eyes yet assuming that they all wanted some before heading over and reclining into the folds of old leather.
“Yes it was thank you very much Mr Fitz.”
The glass paused at his lips as he stared at Coulson, his eyes narrowing dangerously.
“What did you just call me?”
Coulson swallowed the lump in his throat before repeating his previous sentence to which the other man threw back his head in a bark-like laugh. When he stopped he looked at the others faces before locking eyes with Coulson again. “Bastard of a son can’t even use his own real name.”
“What?” said May, her normally stoic expression barely concealing her true worry and confusion at the man’s statement. He turned to look at her.
“My surname isn’t Fitz. It’s Campbell.”
“But then why does…” began Skye before stopping herself and looking anxiously at Mr Campbell who looked thoroughly amused.
“You all want to know why he’d go by th’ name Fitz?” he stated as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He sighed as he got up and walked over to the window to look out over the field, gleaming in the midday sun. “His real name is Leopold Antony Fitz Campbell. Fitz was his mother’s maiden name.” he chuckled before taking a swipe of alcohol. “Just another way to spite me. No wonder I couldn’t find him on any records. Accordin’ to all th’ colleges and universities, Leopold Campbell doesn’t exist. Meant that I wasn’t able to drag him back here to where he belongs.”
He turned around to gaze at the people who his son worked with, his colleagues, his… friends. It sent a bitter taste to his mouth which he proceeded to eradicate with more alcohol.
“He was never supposed to leave here you know. He was never meant to meet any of you or go off to do some ridiculously useless course at school and university. No, he was meant to stay here and finally see what his duty was. Instead he keeps on disappointin’.”
Coulson would later thank god that Mr Campbell had not heard the rather heated but quiet swear words directed at him by Skye and for the millionth time he regarded the fact that May lacking the ability to shoot lasers out her eyes was a blessing. If that hadn’t been the case, he was sure that Mr Campbell would now be a melted mess of something that vaguely resembled a human being. Instead Coulson counted mentally to twenty.
“How long will you be stayin’ Mr Coulson?”
His head snapped up. “That depends on the results of the samples as well as what it is we find. We hope we’re not intruding and pressing our stay if it is unwelcome.”
“No, no,” Campbell shook his head. “Your stay will mean I will spend some quality time with my son. Much needed quality time. And who knows,” he smirked “when you leave you might leave one short.”
His words sent involuntary shivers down everyone’s back.
Then they heard the knocking of a door.
“Come in.”
After a hesitant pause, the door opened to reveal the two scientists who quickly yet cautiously step inside.
Campbell purposely avoided looking at his son in favour of gazing at the girl next to him. “And who are you?”
“I’m Jemma Simmons, Fitz’s lab partner.”
“Hmm, British eh?” Campbell’s face remained stoic. “Still don’t know how to choose company do you Leopold? Fraternisin’ with a Brit, Americans and two Asians. You obviously haven’t retained any of the lessons I taught you.”
Gazing into Fitz’s eyes, Coulson could see his anger and he feared that whatever snarky comment Fitz retaliated with, it wouldn’t do them any good. In fact it could push Campbell to kicking them out the house. So he and May (who had been on the same trail of thought) both jumped up and proceeded to ask questions about the specimens to which the two scientists both answers their need for more evidence.
But before anyone could say anything else, Campbell said “Please could you all leave. I would like to talk alone with my son.”
Knowing no amount of protests would get Fitz to escape his father’s wishes they quietly left, all giving small smiles and comforting touches of encouragement before they closed the door, leaving father and son inside alone.

***
Although he knew that the room’s temperature had not dropped, Fitz couldn’t help the shiver that raced down his spine after the last of his team left. It was just him and his father, and boy did that scare Leo.
His father stalked over to the middle of the room before pointing at the space just before his feet and as if talking to a dog said “Come here, now.”
And like the dog that he became in front of his father, he walked forward, closer to the man’s scrutiny. With one sharp movement Campbell grabbed the boy’s chin and yanked it up so that Leo had no choice but to stare into the coloured voids that were his father’s eyes.
“You haven’t changed. What a disappointment.” He made tutting noises on his tongue. “But then again that’s th’ only thing about you that stays constant. You feel th’ need to go against Heraclitus don’t you? Just like you feel th’ need to defy me. No matter what you don’t change.” He released Fitz’s chin before walking back over towards the alcohol. Fitz remained stoic knowing better than to rub the soreness away in the presence of his father.
“So what is it that you actually contribute to your ‘team’?”
Fitz gulped. “I work with Simmons as th’ science section of th’ team. I’m engineerin’ and she’s biochemistry.” Even the familiarity of that phrase did nothing to alleviate the ever deepening pit in the bottom of his stomach. “We work on th’ scientific aspect of th’ operations. I also design their tools includin’ some weapons.”
“And what ridiculous weapon did you create Leopold?” his voice drenched in sarcasm as he refilled his glass.
“Well… I made a gun that uses an endotoxin to knock people unconscious. It means that ye don’t have to worry about killin’ th’ person, but it does incapacitate them for a while.”
His father’s face remained stoic. “This Simmons, is she your girlfriend?”
Leofs cheeks flushed before stammering that that wasn’t the case. His father nodded in approval. “Good. I won’t have my son fraternisin’ with inadequate people.” He downed his glass, his eyes looking into the fireplace. “Talkin’ of inadequate people, I’ve invited some people over to dinner. I expect you to remember your place and to inform your ‘team’ of theirs.” Fitz could hear the ‘Or else’ hanging in the air.
“Yes father.”
Campbell’s eyes fixed on his son before walking quickly up to him and grabbing the front of Fitz shirt. “What shite are you wearin’?” he asked, his voice an icy calm as he took in Fitz’s attire that consisted of a chequered shirt, tie, his usual cardigan, black trousers and his brown trekking boots from the earlier outing.
“Um…”
“I don’t care what bloody excuses you have. You will not wear this or anythin’ resemblin’ it in my presence, especially tonight at dinner.” he spat before shoving Fitz to the floor. “And I expect you to wear your formal clothes, that is if you can still remember how to put them on. Wouldn’t be bloody surprised since you’ve spent too much time in bloody America.”
Fitz picked himself up off the floor and attempted to straighten out his tie. He turned to leave before his father commanded him to stop. And by commanded it was more like threatened him to not take another step.
“You always defy me don’t you? You can’t even use your own bloody name.”
A malevolent grin spread across the man’s face as he saw his son’s eyes widen in understanding and terror. “Oh yes, I found out what you did. Did you think I wouldn’t notice that they don’t call you Campbell? How dare you use your mother’s name instead of mine you piece of shite!”
Suddenly his father hurled the whiskey glass at his face. It shattered at the impact with his hands which he’d thrown up in attempt to cover his face. He achieved his goal but only to have the glasses fragments rip his skin.
“GET OUT!” his father screamed. “Get out of my sight!”
And so Fitz ran out of the dreaded room before sprinting up to his room, completely oblivious to the fact that his team had been watching the whole scene using Sleepy and Grumpy.

Chapter Text

Once they’d been forced out of the room leaving Fitz to his fate alone with his father, they all ran down to the lab on Simmons’ request.

“I left Sleepy and Grumpy in there so perhaps we could see what’s going on behind that door.”

“You’re willing to disrespect their privacy like that Simmons?” asked an incredulous Ward. Simmons turned to look at the taller man with fire in her eyes.

“So you’re saying that you are perfectly comfortable with leaving Fitz alone in a room with that awful man who calls himself his father?”

They all shook their heads and then returned their attention to the screen. They watched as Campbell filled his glass after having released Fitz’s chin from its uncomfortable position.

“So what is it that you actually contribute to your ‘team’?”

They watched as Fitz attempted to explain his much valued contributions to both the team but also the weapons stocks and in turn watched his father brush them off as ridiculous and invaluable.

“This Simmons, is she your girlfriend?”

Simmons’ cheeks flushed as much as Fitz’s did at the question. Luckily the team was to engrossed in watching the video to really notice.

“Good. I won’t have my son fraternising with inadequate people.”

They all glared as the man downed his glass only to hear him threaten Fitz to make sure not only he but also they behaved at this dinner he’d arranged for tonight.

“Having dinner with Fitz’s dad. Add that to the list of things I really don’t want to do.”

The others were about to agree when Campbell suddenly stalked up to Fitz to yank him up by his shirt’s front.

“What shite are you wearing?”

The fact that his voice still remained inhumanly calm during that sentence only made the team more uncomfortable.

“What’s he talking about. That’s what Fitz always wears.” commented Skye, her face showing her shock.

“It’s what he wears when with us.” said Ward.

“I don’t care what bloody excuses you have. You will not wear this or anythin’ resemblin’ it in my presence, especially tonight at dinner.”

Fitz hit the floor with a thud.

“And I expect you to wear your formal clothes, that is if you can still remember how to put them on. Wouldn’t be bloody surprised since you’ve spent too much time in bloody America.”

“Oh piss off!” shouted Coulson at the screen.

“Thank god he’s leaving the room.” said Simmons.

“No he’s not, his dad just told him to stop.”

 “You always defy me don’t you? You can’t even use your own bloody name.”

“Oh dear.” came Simmons’ small and shaking voice.

“Oh yes, I found out what you did. Did you think I wouldn’t notice that they don’t call you Campbell? How dare you use your mother’s name you piece of shite!”

Suddenly the glass was slicing through the air towards Fitz’s face, ripping his outstretched hand.

“GET OUT!” his father screamed. “Get out of my sight!”

And with great relief they watched as Leo fled the room.

“I need to go see him…” Simmons said as she looked for the first aid kit.

“No, I’ll go.”

They all turned to see Malcom at the door.

“But I need…”

“I know you mean well lass but do ye really think that Fitz would like ye, or any of ye, to see him like this? Let him at least recover from his dah before he has to deal with facin’ ye.” Malcom sighed at Simmons’ distressed face. “It’s not that he doesn’t value ye all, ‘cus I have only seen ye with him for a day and I can tell. But let me take care of him just this once. It’s what he’s used to and it will help him to remember that part of his childhood.”

Seeing Malcom’s sadness and the truth of his intentions, the team eventually agreed, Simmons especially reluctantly.

“Thank ye. By the way as ye heard Master Campbell say, there’ll be guests a’comin’ tonight so ye best dress formally. I come round later to see if what ye have is adequate.”

“That would be much appreciated, thank you Malcom.” replied Coulson before they watched the scot walk up and out of the lab.

“Well I guess we need to go get dressed.”

***

Fitz watched as the water pooled in the bottom of the bathtub, allowing the heavy billowing clouds of steam to rise up. He’d run into the bathroom at the top of the house, meaning that none of the team actually knew about it and he’d be alone for a while.

He started to unbutton his shirt, having already disposed of the tie on the floor and allowed the rest of his clothes to form a messy heap. He’d usually fold them and leave them in a pile but he just didn’t have the heart.

Fitz looked up at the mirror only to see the clouded glass staring back at him. “Probably for the best. I’m not worth a look at.”

He stepped into the water, ignoring the way his skin groaned against the scathing heat. Perhaps it could teach him a thing or two on how to be a better son. But the heat did nothing. All Fitz felt was the darkness that always consumed him when he spent time with his father. He knew deep down that no matter what, his father would never accept him. That’s why he had changed his name to Fitz. He was never a true Campbell, he’d been told that often enough. No, only his mother had accepted him for who he was. She would encourage him to work on his projects or read “A brief history of time” instead of some philosophical book his father would have forced into his hands. But of course nothing stays the same, Heraclitus made sure of that.

Fitz opened his eyes and looked at his hand. It was still bleeding a small trickle of blood but it wasn’t deep enough to require stiches. He’d deal with it later. He wouldn’t want to get blood all over his formal suits. That would just make his father ever madder.

Fitz sighed. He knew this would have happened no matter what. He was just glad that this time he hadn’t been dragged against his will back home. No, there was no way out of this one. They need the house as a base and the lab downstairs.

He couldn’t help the small smile that lit up his face as he thought about their faces as they laid eyes on the lab. They all looked so proud of him. What a comparison to his dad. The only reason Fitz had been allowed to build it was because his father had regarded it as a way of building up his son’s character.

Fitz was pulled out of his thoughts by the shark knock that came at the door. He was about to ask whoever it was to leave him alone when he heard a muffled “It’s Malcom. Please let me come in.”

After an overly quiet pause Fitz agreed and the door opened and quickly shut behind the old ground keeper. He walked over to the tub, neither man even remotely uneasy about the fact that the younger was naked. Malcom sat down on the small chair so that he could speak with Fitz at ease.

“I heard ye dah shoutin’.” His eyes desperately attempting to lock on Fitz, but the latter stubbornly refused to lift his head from where it hung on his chest.

“Hm.” was the only response Malcom got, making him sigh.

“Let me see yer hand lad.” He waited for Fitz to move but was met with only cold motionless silence. “Please lad. I just want to make sure ye’re alright.”

Having acknowledged the worry that filled the older man’s tone, Fitz lifted his hand and allowed it to be placed in Malcom’s lap. Malcom’s eyes inspected the wound and deeming it to be only in need of a bandage, he immediately felt a weight lift off his shoulders.

“Did he get ye anywhere else?” Fitz shook his head. “Are ye sure?”

“Yes Malcom.”

“Good, I just don’t want you to be hurt that’s all.”

He watched as the younger man finally lifted his head to look into his eyes before the tears began to stream down his face.

“Oh Leo.” Malcom leant forward and wrapped his arms around the skinny boy’s shoulders, one cradling the back of his curl filled hair as he gently rocked him back and forth. “Oh my poor boy.”

The show of affection sent sobs that racked his entire body to take hold of Fitz as he attempted to gasp between them. He rested his forehead on Malcom’s shoulder, not even thinking about the deep tear patches that now were beginning to form there. In fact, when he finally pulled away and saw them, he became even more distressed.

“I ruined ye shirt.”

“Ah come on Leo.” Malcom said with a smile. “Tis just tears. Salt and water lad, nothin’ more.”

Leo chuckled quietly. “I guess I am bein’ silly aren’t I.”

“Well we all ur sometimes lad. That’s because we’re human.”

“But bein’ human isn’t good enough for him.” Fitz replied bitterly.

“I know lad. Yer father is a bitter man who can’t see past th’ end of his own bloody large ego to see that ye’re an amazing lad.”

“But…”

“Is that what yer mother thought of ye? ‘Cus I don’t think she did. She saw a bright young lad who could read enormous books by th’ bright age of three and could fix a radio by five.” Malcom smiled at the memories. Telling the truth he had thought Leo was destroying his old radio but to his immense surprise, the bloody thing actually started working. He remembered telling the lad’s parents. Campbell had just dismissed it as his fool’s imagination while the Mrs had just smiled behind his back, fully aware that her son was more than capable to achieve such a feat.

“No.”

“Of course not. She was bloody well proud of ye.”

Fitz looked up into the older man’s eye, their blue orbs now released of the darkness that had held him in his father’s presence. “Thank ye Malcom. I don’t know what I’d do without ye.”

“Well…”

“Oh shut up!” cried Fitz, playfully punching Malcom’s arm, who in turn chuckled happily “If ye need any help with yer outfit, don’t be afraid to holler fur me. Alison has already betted five pounds that ye clothes are gonna need some adjusting’. She’s determined to get some more meat on ye bones since she’s convinced you lost some since she last saw ye. Said that ‘We can’t have th’ young master walkin’ around th’ house looking like a fish drownin’ in his own clothes.’”

The two scots shared a hearty laugh after which Malcom excused himself to go help prepare dinner. Leo wrapped himself in a robe and having drained the bath tub, quickly made his way to his room. After he’d gotten dressed, he called up Alison to re-stich the waistline so that it actually remained on his body instead of slowly falling to the floor. And for once, Leo found that he didn’t quite mind Alison’s fussing as much as he usually did. Instead he found himself smiling knowing that these two people would always be his family no matter what.

Chapter Text

Malcom did hold true to his promise and came round later to see what they had on. Well at least for the men he did. A true gentleman didn’t go into a lady’s room and comment negatively on their dress! Instead he’d sent Alison to check on them.

Alison had found May wearing a floor length black dress that hung gracefully down on her frame. Her hair was pulled back and pinned in a bun with a silver needle and clasp. Skye was in a salmon pink dress that had a small flower pin on the white ribbon that circled her waist. Both of which she deemed ready for dinner.

Jemma on the other hand had only brought warm trousers, none of which were at all formal. She didn’t fit in either Skye’s nor May’s clothes and she was starting to panic.

“Don’t ye worry Ms. Jemma.” said the old lady with a smile. “We’ve still got some old dresses around here somewhere.” And without heeding Jemma’s words of protest, she dragged the young girl with her to a separate part of the castle. Using one of the numerous keys on her belt she proceeded to open the door to reveal a small room with various wardrobes lining the room’s walls, which were covered in floral paper.

“Here we are.” Alison said with a smile as she unlocked one of the wardrobes to reveal a large row of dresses. “Now let’s see. How tall are ye deary?”

Having asked multiple questions on Jemma’s height and other factors, Alison seem satisfied and began taking out some of the dresses, leaning them against Simmons’ frame before either laying them on the chair or replacing them.

They had gone through about eleven dresses when finally they found one that fit the bill. It was a deep emerald green which was strapless and closely fit against her body. On top of that was a lace cover that draped over her, leaving her skin as the background of its indicate patterns on her shoulders. Its sleeves finished just before her elbow and the skirt part ended around her knees with a small flare.

“Turn around dearie, let me see ye.” Alison watched with content eyes as Simmons turned round slowly. “It suits ye.”

“Whose are these dresses?”

Alison’s eyes lost their light and filled with sadness. She turned to replace the last dress and closed the wooden doors with a sigh. “It was Leofs mother.”

“Mrs Fi… I mean Campbell.”

Alison shook her head and smiled. “No you’re right dearie. She was a Fitz. She hated her husband’s name just as much as she hated the’ man himself. Whenever he was out th’ house it was ‘Oh please just call me Mrs Fitz.’” Alison chuckled “I’m not surprised Leo took on th’ habit.”

She walked towards the door.

“Now if ye don’t mind I need to start getting’ dinner prepared. Goodness knows that even with th’ extra hired help it’s still goin’ to be a tough two hours before it starts.”

“No of course,” said Jemma with a smile “I don’t want to get in your way.”

“Ye remind me of my English cousin. Always so polite and thoughtful. Don’t ye dare listen to any shite Master Campbell has been sayin’ about ye and yer country. I fur one know that th’ English can be exceptionally kind like yerself.”

“I’ll be sure to remember that Alison.”

***

Everyone had gathered in the Coulson’s room just before the dinner was about to start. Well everyone minus a Scot with curly hair. Ward and Coulson had both dressed in smart suit and complimented the women on their style. Coulson may have denied it afterwards when Skye confronted him, but he had in fact made puppy eyes at May on various occasions throughout the night.

“Now we’ve seen Mr Campbell’s nature,” they all refused to call him Fitz’s dad “we need to make sure that no matter how provocative he might be, that we keep our heads and emotions in check.”

“Exploding in the man’s face won’t be doing Fitz any favours.” said May, her face grave as she looked at the younger team members.

“Fine,” sighed Skye “Anything else?”

“That’s it for now, but please let’s try and keep tension to a minimum.” Coulson regarded his team with one final critical glance before turning to May offering his arm. “Shall we head downstairs? I’d rather not get on Campbell’s bad side.”

May simply smiled and smoothly wrapped her arm around his, allowing him to escort her down into the main hall. The rest of them followed down, all looking to see where there small scientist could be.

“Mr Coulson,” came Campbell’s booming voice “This is an old friend of mine, served with me in the army. Mr McFarlan, meet Mr Coulson. He is Leopold’s boss and heads the team he works in.”

Mr McFarlan was a bold man whose nose took up an abnormally large amount of his face. His suit bulged in the middle to make up for his over-rounded stomach, making it seem that his head and legs were much too small to be in proportion with the rest of his body. He took Phil’s hand in a strong grip to shake it.

“Pleasure to meet ye.”

“The same here.” replied Coulson before gesturing to May “This is my partner Melinda May.”

“What a stunnin’ lady you are! And that is a beautiful dress you’re wearin’.” His hand grasped hers.

“Thank you.” came May’s reply, courteous to the untrained ear yet painfully fake to Coulson’s.

“This is my daughter Myrna.” The man extended his arm to gently drag his daughter forward, indicating that she too should shake their hands.

Myrna had dark hair that in the weak light of the hall seemed black but was actually a dark shade of brown. She lacked all of her father’s features but instead was well formed and clothed in a ruby red dress that clung tightly to it, bringing out the shade of her lips and complimenting her hair.

“Now who are these three young ones Campbell?”

“They are Leopold’s co-workers.”

The three introduced themselves, shaking hands with both McFarlan and his daughter. They were about to head over to the dining hall when he appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Fitz.” said Jemma as she looked up at the young man making his way down the stairs his gaze fully focused on the floor or his shoes, Jemma couldn’t be sure. Hearing her, the rest of the team turned around, albeit Skye needed to grab the front of Ward’s tux and manhandle him to face the stairs.

Ward’s eyebrows must have disappeared altogether at the sight of his young teammate.

“Fitz is… he’s…”

“He’s wearing a kilt!” gasped Skye, finishing Ward’s sentence.

And indeed Fitz was wearing a kilt. A blue and green one to be exact, with a sporran hanging in the front, lilting as he made his way slowly down the stairs. The pleats stood draped over his right leg as the tartan fabric fell to his knees. He wore a complimentary midnight blue Prince Charlie jacket and vest and beneath his chin was a small black bow tie. His white socks (which Simmons distinctly remembered Fitz calling Hose) had small rather amusing looking flashes on the side and to all of their surprise, tucked into his right leg was a small knife. The outfit was completed by the addition of the black Brogues, all polished and shining in the candle light.

Only when he’d run out of stairs to look at did Fitz lift his head to look at the others. His cheek immediately heated under their surprised gazes.

“Um…”

“You look good Fitz.” May gazed at the young man with a proud smile, and Fitz couldn’t help but wonder if that was what a mother’s face looks like when it’s filled with pride.

“Really?” he asked incredulously “I can’t help but feel very, very out of place. I’ve always hated these. Too much bother to put on, and I…”

“Fitz, you’re rambling.” said Simmons as she stepped closer to him “and your bow is lopsided.” She smiled at him reassuringly as she straightened the offending item.

“Thank ye.” Fitz mumbled to the floor. “I’m sorry ye have to sit through this dinner and see me like this.”

“Well I think you look rather dashing.” Simmons smiled even more upon noticing how much redder his cheeks had become due to her comment. “Oh come on Fitz. Who knows, maybe it will be fun.”

Fitz sighed, but didn’t agree with her, merely offering his arm as Coulson had done just before.

“Well, I must say I’d rather face an alien invasion any day that this bloody thing.” he said “But there’s no getting’ out of this so let’s get it over and done with.”

And with that, they walked into the dining hall. Or rather for Leo, into the lion’s den.

***

As it turned out, Mr McFarlan wasn’t the only guest invited to that dinner. In fact, the room was packed with people that the team had never seen before which made them all uncomfortable to say the least.

“Leopold! How are ye lad?” cried one of the men as they walked through the door. Simmons was relieved to see that Fitz was smiling at the approaching man clad in a red kilt.

“Clearly this one must be nice.” she thought. “Thank goodness for that.”

“I’m doin’ fine Dr Reid. How’s Jack?”

Dr Reid smiled. “Well ye know, went off to get his law degree and started in a firm. They say he’s doin’ very well.”

“Ye must be proud.”

“As proud as any father should be lad.” He coughed before leaning in closer. “Not that yer dah knows anythin’ about that… But who is this dashin’ young lass ye have with ye?”

“I’m Jemma Simmons. I work with Fitz.”

Simmons couldn’t help but blush as Reid gently took her hand and kissed it, his beard and moustache’s finely trimmed hairs brushing against her skin.

“If ye work with Fitz then ye must be a scientist.” he said with a gleam in his eyes. “Fitz always preferred a smart brain with an ugly face rather than a sponge behind a pretty one. Not that ye aren’t beautiful.” The man reached into his breast pocket before taking out a small piece of paper and handing it to Simmons. “Here is my card in case ye ever need anythin’ and you’d like a tour of a nice part of Scotland, not this hole of devils.” he added with a smile before turning to Fitz. “Jack asked if ye could come on up and see him one day. Go have a Haggis or somethin’.”

Fitz chuckled. “Jack always did like that drink more than was good for him.”

“I can assure ye lad that that hasn’t changed.”

Meanwhile Skye and Ward had been talking with one of the couples, Mr and Mrs Fotheringham, which apparently were the small town’s doctor and assistant.

“I must say ye’re a well formed lad.” said Mrs Fotheringham with a smile and Ward.

“Thank you. It comes with the job.”

“Have to do a lot of runnin’ and stuff?” asked Mr Fotheringham. When Ward had replied that he did indeed do a lot of ‘running and stuff’ the man grinned widely and said “I bet it comes in handy when that pretty lass drags ye around shoppin’ no?”

“Oh… we’re not together.” said Ward “We’re just partners.”

“Dear god Ward, could you make us sound any more like Fitzsimmons?” she said in an exasperated tone, yet he could see the amusement hidden underneath.

“Oh I do believe it’s time we sat down at the table.” said Mrs Fotheringham to her husband who began to lead her away to their seats.

Campbell had already taken his seat at the head of the table and he watched as the others spread round the great oak table. Fitz was just about to sit between Ward and Jemma when his father’s voice sounded over the table.

“Leopold. What to ye think ye’re doing?”

“Um…” Fitz looked at his father in confusion “I’m sittin’ in my usual seat.”

May couldn’t help but notice with sad eyes that Fitz’s usual place was quite far away from Campbell. “Probably for the best.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You will sit over here next to Myrna.”

What hurt the most to watch was how Fitz didn’t even complain, like he knew it would only make it worse if he talked back. So with a quiet apology to Simmons he left his seat and went over to sit next to Myrna, merely a seat away from his father.

Before anyone could say anything, in came the extra house maids Campbell had ordered, bringing with them the evening’s meal. With steaming plates filled to the brim, they started to talk to each other. The whole team kept sneaking subtle glances in their scientists’ direction only to see how due to a rather chilling look from his father, Fitz had begun talking with Myrna. May had even lightly touched Phil’s elbow to bring his attention to Campbell and his murderous looks.

“Don’t worry,” Phil whispered “he won’t risk doing anything in front of everyone. Fitz will be fine.”

“I still hate the thought of Fitz having had to do this all the time.” said Skye since she too had noticed the looks.

“Well then I’m sure he knows how to deal with it.” replied Ward.

“So Leopold,” began Mr McFarlan, his eyes intently on the young man “what have you been doin’ since I last saw you?”

“I went to university, graduated early and then did another two years of Academy engineerin’ before joinin’ Mr Coulson’s team. I’m currently workin’ with Coulson and th’ rest of my team as an engineer and overall scientist.”

“What’s an engineer Leopold?” asked Myrna, her eyes fluttering on purpose. But Fitz being Fitz was oblivious.

“Well it’s someone who works in th’ branch of science and technology concerned with th’ design, buildin’ and use of engines, machines and structures.”

“Oh god he’s going into textbook mode.” said Simmons, her eyes filled with worry.

“What do you mean?” asked May from across the table.

“Sometimes when he’s nervous, he kind of shuts down and reverts to a closed off manner. It you try and talk to him, he’ll most likely answer back in a boring and monotonous way. They used to call it his textbook mode back at the Academy.”

“So what engines and machines do you make Leopold?”

Fitz didn’t even turn to look at her as he answered. “I make devices that allow Jemma and I to collect samples and analyse them…”

“Like little robots?”

Fitz managed to hold in his exasperated sigh. “Yes I do make robots of sorts.”

“Ye’ll have to show us at some point then.” said McFarlan. “Perhaps a private viewing.”

Fitz suddenly chocked on whatever was in his mouth and proceeded to swallow the offending piece of food before coughing.

“So what do you say Leopold? Will you let us see?”

Fitz looked at McFarlan and then to his dad, whose eyes were slowly boring holes in Fitz’s own.

“Um…”

“I’ve very sorry Mr McFarlan,” came Coulson’s voice from the end of the table “but that won’t be possible. Company regulations and such.”

“Oh…That’s ok,” replied McFarlan, his obvious anger and Coulson’s intervention barely hidden. “I’m sure Leopold could show us another of his inventions.”

“I’m sure he could.” Coulson’s voice replied, icily calm. He gave a curt nod at Fitz’s small smile of gratitude before returning his attention to his meal. Not even a minute had passed before there was another voice.

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” said Mrs Fotheringham as she looked at Jemma “But I didn’t catch yer name.”

“Oh, Jemma Simmons.”

“My, what a beautiful name.” the woman smiled “Who would have thought, an English woman under Campbell’s roof. My, this is a surprise.”

“She is part of Leopold’s team.” Campbell’s eyes were as cold as his voice when he looked at Jemma.

“Are you now.” said Mr Fotheringham “What is it you do?”

“Well I’m a scientist like Leo but I’m a biochemist.”

Mr Fotheringham’s eyes lit up. “So you’re a doctor are you?”

“Well yes when the need arises I give medical treatment to my team. But I mainly investigate more than anything even though I’m chief of medical.”

“You’re rather young to already be in charge of such a task. Aren’t all the other doctors annoyed that they’re under the orders of a woman? And a young’un at that.”

Simmons flushed with not only offense but also embarrassment at the attention.

“No, nothing like that.” cut in May, staring at the insolent Doctor. “Simmons is more that capable of handling herself.”

“Yes well, getting 2 PhDs does that to a person I guess.” said Jemma with a shy smile.

“Now, now lassie.” said Mr Fotheringham “Let’s not start lying to try and look good in front of others. You seem to be a smart girl, but if you think that anyone in their right minds will believe ye then…”

“She’s not lyin’.”

They all turned to look at Fitz who was staring at his glass of water.

“Pardon me?” came Mr Fotheringham’s disbelieving voice.

“I said,” he turned to face the man “she’s not lyin’.”

Campbell chuckled heartily. “Don’t be ridiculous Leopold. You can’t expect us to believe that she has two PhDs.”

Fitz turned to face his father, his ears turning pink with anger. “If she doesn’t have two PhDs, then I’m a bloody idiot and Irish. Hell, I could be th’ king of an alien colony in th’ Andromeda galaxy.”

Next to him Myrna gasped, looking more like a pantomimic figure than someone in real shock to Skye’s eyes. But she, like everybody else was focused on Campbell’s stoic gaze that was slowly starting to fill with anger. When Fitz finally broke off the staring match between father and son, he turned to face Mr Fotheringham.

“Please could ye apologies to Simmons.” His voice was calm and collected.

Mr Fotheringham opened and closed his mouth in shock like a fish out of water.

“Leopold, stop this absurd behaviour. Mr Fotheringham has nothin’ to apologise for.”

Fitz ignored his father’s words, his gaze focused entirely on the doctor. “Ye taught me manners were important father, so now I’d like to see Mr Fotheringham extended them to my colleague and best friend. Could ye please apologies?”

The doctor turned to Jemma. “I’m very sorry my dear. You have my sincerest apologies.”

“Thank you. But that really wasn’t necessary Fitz.”

Campbell slammed his fist down on the wood, sending tremors through the table and its contents.

“His name is not Fitz so don’t call him that! He is my son so he will be called by my name not his Mother’s if you all insist on using surnames!”

Fitz merely nodded his head and continued eating his food.

The evening past with mainly the guests especially Myrna and her father making conversation, a vast majority of it revolving around Fitz who answered their questions in a detached and polite manner. It made Skye’s spine shiver to see his eyes without so much as a spark of interest or light. No wonder he had left if all he became was a spiritless body to be able to survive these occasions.

Eventually they all finished the meal with full stomachs before moving off into the side room for drinks. To Fitz’s disappointment, neither Malcom nor Alison were allowed to attend. Just another way for Campbell to show his son how he was in charge. It hurt Fitz to the core. And to add to this pain, he was yet again made to remain in his father’s, McFarlan and Myrna’s presence.

“So have you met anyone yet Leopold?” asked Myrna.

“No, I spent too much time studyin’ really. But S…” Fitz choked back his words as he caught sight of his father’s glare. “But I’m sure it’s also that I haven’t found th’ right person yet.” He pushed the fake smile onto his lips.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find that person soon.” said Myrna with a seductive smile. Fitz merely said thank you before looking away.

From across the room Dr Reid was talking to May and Coulson over glasses of scotch which the two agents had found a new fondness for. “I’m glad Leo found ye. Ye all seem to be his escape.”

“His escape?” asked May, her head tilting to the side with slight curiosity.

“Well, it’s his way of gettin’ away from his dah really and th’ life that he insists Leo has to have. That boy never cared for titles nor glory, he gets it from his dear mother. He’d rather a good book to read, somethin’ or other to tinker with and a friend by his side. When he was here it was Alison and Malcom. I swear to god if it weren’t for those two I wouldn’t have been surprised if you hadn’t even gotten to know him. That boy would have probably off’ed himself out on th’ moors like...”

He stopped midsentence at the sight of their wide eyes, filled with shock. “One should not speak in such a way in good company, especially in this place.”

Coulson and May merely nodded, understanding the discomfort that seem to permeate the house.

“He also had my son Jack for company. Th’ amount of times he would just appear at our house and ask if it was ok if he stayed for a while. We never turned him down. I’m sure no one would. Minus his own dah.” The bitterness in his tone as he spoke of Campbell was almost tangible. “Then it was university, after that th’ Academy and finally ye. Ye’re his escape.”

“Well now I feel very privileged to have him as part of my team and as a friend.”

Reid smiled. “I knew there was a reason Leo spoke highly of his team.”

“What is that ridiculous girl doing now?” May said with an exasperated tone as they watched Myrna attempt to flirt with Fitz.

“Campbell’s back at it. Trying to get his son married.” He turned to the agents. “Ye should have seen th’ last girl he tried to persuade Fitz to marry. No brain matter what so ever.”

“How long has he been doing that?”

“Since the lad turned fourteen. He came to our house crying after Campbell’s first attempt. Said a girl didn’t deserve him and that they all just deserved to finish school, go do somethin’ with their lives. Of course two years later he joined university so that was an end to th’ constant stream of plausible wives.”

“Thank god for that.”

“Aye. Thank god for that.” And with those words Reid downed his drink in one gulp.

Chapter Text

Jemma had excused herself to leave the others. She hated it inside. The air was stifling and she felt surrounded by those people. But that wasn’t the worst. No the worst was turning to find Campbell’s cold eyes locked on yours, and feel the cold wash of fear cover you. She’d made her way to the back of the house that had a patio leading onto a garden. She leaned on the stone rail that surrounded the patio, gazing at the gardens beauty in the dim light.

That’s what had always interested her. The way that nature, even though so precise, complex and undoubtedly cruel could always make such beauty. It was everywhere, how things linked and lived and died because of each other. The intrinsic patter of life.

“I thought I might find ye here.”

She turned round only to find Fitz, his face now with a small smile. It seemed nothing short of a miracle. She leaned back on the stone as he walked towards her.

“It was always one of my favourite places, this garden. Just to sit here or work with Malcom was th’ best. That is until I made th’ lab.” he said with a lopsided grin.

“It’s beautiful. I shall have to congratulate Malcom on his excellent gardening abilities. It reminds me of my parent’s one back home. It’s strange being so close to home yet not there. It’s so green here. One could almost believe it was England.”

“Ye should ask Coulson to let ye go see ye parents for two weeks or so. I’m sure he’d let ye and that yer parents would be awfully happy.”

Simmons looked sadly at Fitz who was now staring out into the garden. “Thank you. I’ll be sure to ask. But you’ll have to come and stay at least four days or my parents will get positively mad at me. ‘You never let us see Fitz and more! We’d like to see him as well.’”

Jemma chuckled at the memory of her parents when they’d first met Fitz. They’d loved the young man with unruly curled hair, who not only respected their daughter and her intelligence but as her father said was ‘able to put up with her while talking about science’. But mostly, Fitz treated her as his equal, which in the modern world where no matter how equal people thought women were treated it was often not reality, it meant a lot.  To say they had liked meeting him would be an understatement. They’d always be happy to have Fitz over. In that sense it sounded just like Reid and his son Jack. The thought somehow made her both pleased yet sad.

“Do ye… um I was wonderin’ if… if ye’d like to… um… to dance?”

Jemma turned in shock to find Fitz looking sheepish at his own words. “Ye know what, it doesn’t matter. I’ll go…”

“Oh Fitz,” she grabbed his arm and stopped him from leaving. “I’d love to dance with you.”

A small smile began to appear on Fitz face, his eyes now with their usual light and joy.

“Well come on then.” she said with a smile as she placed a hand on his shoulders and one on his own hand. He tentatively slid his free hand down and gently settled it on her waist before he looked back into her eyes. And then he began to move.

Simmons had been sure that of all the things that were possible in this universe, Fitz being able to dance and dance well at that, had most certainly not been on it. His feet slid in motion with her, almost as if his very breathing was in harmony with hers.

“Did you know when two musicians perform a duet, their brain waves synchronise?” she said in a light voice as they moved over the patio floor.

Fitz chuckled. “Really? I didn’t.”

“Well I was just wondering if it happened when people dance that’s all.” she said with a smile.

“That’s just one more thing to check for once we’ve finished this assignment. F…for science of course.” he stuttered out at the end. She merely replied with a light-hearted laugh.

“Of course Fitz.”

He pulled her closer, his head resting next to hers as they continued to move in the night air. “Ye look beautiful in that dress.”

“Thank you.”

“I never thought I’d see that dress on anyone else… It was my mother’s ye see. She bought it when my dah wasn’t with her, he always said she looked hideous while wearin’ green. He thought it was a colour for commoners. But mother had always loved green, like she loved her garden. ‘Green’s th’ colour of life Leof. She used to always say that.”

“Well your mother was certainly right Fitz. Green is the colour of life. It’s the colour of chloroplasts and of plants. It’s the colour of the healthy land when it’s received rain.”

Fitz pulled away slightly to be able to look at her face as they continued to dance. He laughed, but it was filled with a deep rooted sadness. Like that of someone who knows something the world doesn’t and thinks that that knowledge is cold and cruel. A curse.

“Ye would have like my mum. Did I ever tell ye that she had wanted to be a biochemist like ye?”

Simmons gasped, which only seemed to make Fitz all the happier.

“Ye she would have if her family hadn’t made her marry me dah.” his face became ever so slightly colder. “That’s why she made me promise to not let family and names stop me. Promise that I’d never give up my dream, but go on to do somethin’, not live in a gilded cage for th’ rest of me life. She made me promise that when she wore that dress ye see.”

Simmons couldn’t help but smile as she watched the stars shine while they turned around in each other’s arms.

“It was on my fifth birthday. Th’ last one she spent with me. My dah hadn’t bothered to come, and I must say that I couldn’t have been happier. It was just mum, Alison, Malcom and I. They were always my family… I was scared that if I saw someone else in it that… that I’d forget what she looked like. That she was th’ one whofd once worn it and looked like an angel and someone else would only ruin that memory.” Simmons looked back at his face to find his eyes brimming with tears. “But I couldn’t have been more wrong. Ye look just as beautiful as her. Ye just as kind and brilliant and although my mum will frown disapprovin’ly at me for this one, ye certainly smarter than her. Ye one of th’ smartest people I know Jemma. And I am sure that she would have been proud to have met ye. Just as I am.”

And with a choked sob Fitz wrapped his arms around her and cried. And Simmons as she held her crying friend, hoped that someday Fitz would finally be able to see just how proud his mother was sure to be of the man that he’d become. And the stars shone through the darkness as she held him, the tears now also flowing down her cheeks.

***

“Where have Fitz and Simmons gone?” asked Skye, her eyes betraying her worry for her friends.

“Relax. They probably went somewhere together.” said Ward as they headed up the stairs. “It wasn’t exactly the best of nights for Fitz.”

Skye sighed as they reached their bedrooms. “You’re right. Whofd have thought that anyone related to Fitz would be such a dick!”

Ward snorted “Tell me about it. Add that to the list to awful parents.”

“Yeah I guess. Goodnight Ward.”

And with that she closed the door of her room behind her while Ward slipped behind his. He walked over to his window, gazing out over the garden, only to see two figures dancing. Snatching the small camera on his bedside table, Ward began filming the two scientists together. “Who knows,” he thought “It may be useful later.”

Making sure that the door was locked and secure, he went to his traveling bag. Slipping his hands inside and dislodging the fake bottom, he removed the flat laptop. Opening it, he punched in the passwords and then set up the private conversation.

<Are you there CV?>

<I’m here Ward. What have you find out so far?>

<HQ asked us to use Fitz’s home as a base. But his home turned out to be a mansion in the middle of the Scottish hills.>

<Well who would have thought huh? Fitz is a rich kid.>

<With a bastard for a father to go with it. Fitz hates him so much that he used his mother’s maiden name. His real surname is Campbell.>

<Campbell? As in Ross Campbell?>

<Yeah that’s the one. How did you know?>

<He’s one of us.>

Ward paused to look at the screen, re-reading it again to check that he’d not hallucinated.

<He’s a bloody good ally to have. As you know he has dough. Ha! I just noticed that Fitz has actually helped our cause, not voluntarily of course.>

<What? How?>

<Well let’s just say that we received some ‘anonymous’ donations of some rather impressive and never seen before weapons. Ask around about what Fitz used to design before he joined Shield.>

<Ok. We’ve obtained some samples but we don’t have the results in. But it is alien positive.>

<Perfect! Notify me if there is any new developments. And approach Campbell. I’ll send you a key word tomorrow for you to know for certain.>

<Yes sir.>

<Good work Ward. H.H.>

<H.H.>

Chapter Text

Fitz had woken early, his sleep disrupted by the return of his nightmares. He’d thought that by now they would have gone, but it seems that they’d been there for as long as he could remember and so they’d stay indefinitely. They had diminished significantly ever since he’d met Simmons and then even more with the team, but that didn’t stop them entirely.

He sighed as he slung his legs over the edge of the bed, his hairs standing on edge with the temperature drop. But there was no point trying to go back to sleep. He already knew what was going to happen. He’d spend hours staring at the ceiling in hope of finding some sort of answer to something. Anything. But he knew it wouldn’t come.

He dressed in a plain navy shirt, leaving his ties within the confines of his bag, and wore black woollen trousers. He could tell it was going to be a cold day. After all the frost was hard on the glass of his bedroom window.

Walking into the kitchen, it was even colder since it was too early for Alison to be up and about heating the rooms with the smell of freshly baked bread. But that didn’t bother Fitz in the slightest. He wasn’t sure he could eat anything other than a glass of milk and he wasn’t ready to face another human being. Not when he knew that it was only a matter of time…

Not allowing himself to remain on that thought, he made his way to the lab, fully intending on filling his mind up with wires and other fiddly things.

After about two hours, so at five in the morning, the peace was shattered.

His father was already immaculately dressed, standing coldly in the lab’s doorway.

“My study now.”

Knowing better than to try and avoid the coming confrontation, Fitz carefully tidied his tools and with leaden limbs left the security of the lab.

The study was warm, the fire strong and blazing in its place. At least he wouldn’t have to freeze while being lectured. That had happened many times before. His father stood beside a wooden chair that Fitz recognised all too well. It was not like the rest of the furniture in the room, or even in the house for that matter. No, this chair was different, and it made Fitz’s stomach drop and his ribs press down so hard on his heart that he feared it might explode.

“Sit.”

Fitz quickly moved and obeyed the order, attempting to not think about what was to come. The silence wrapped itself around the room, allowing the throb of his blood echo in his ears with sickening clarity.

Although he was ready for it, the slap that made his face snap to the right caught him off guard. The skin on his cheek at once became red and pulsed with blood, his breathing thrown off guard into frantic pants. Then there came another from the other side, the back of his knuckles making a different sound in the silence.

“What did I ever do to deserve a son like you? What is wrong with you Leopold? Answer me!”

“What?” Fitz managed to stutter out, his knuckles going white from gripping his knees.

“Is it because you’re a poof?” Campbell’s eyes looked deadly in the firelight’s glow.

“No.”

Slap. “Liar! Why else would you reject every girl that has ever set foot in this house?”

“Maybe be…because I don’t w…want to get married.” That earned him a punch that made his head ring.

“I don’t care if you don’t want to marry. I didn’t want to raise you but I fulfilled my duty. And you will bloody well do the same.”

“But…”

“But what? You only like men, is that it Leopold?”

“No but…”

“Then you’ll do as I say and marry Myrna. I am tiered of lettin’ it slide because Malcom said you were too young. Huh. I shouldn’t have listened to that fool. Well it doesn’t matter if you’re a poof or not, you’re getting’ married as soon as possible to McFarlan’s daughter. He wanted to discuss some aspects of this with you privately.”

Fitz’s eyes widened in terror as he gripped the chairs arms with trembling hands. “No! I don’t want to. Please don’t leave me alone with h..”

This time the punch threw Fitz off his chair and onto the carpeted floor. Before he could manage to see where his father was, the leather boots collided with the middle of his abdomen.

The air rushed out of him and he gasped even though no air was entering his bruised lungs. He tried to curl up but that seem to only fuel his father’s anger even more.

“Get up you piece of shite!” Campbell said menacingly after he felt he’d dealt a satisfying number of blows, not having even bothered to attempt to direct them away from his son’s face. “And your team better not try anythin’ funny or else. Don’t test me Leopold. Now get out of my sight before you entice me to do worse.”

And with that Fitz somehow managed to haul himself off the now bloodstained carpet and out the door. He got to the pantry before he collapsed, a cold steak pressed against his swelling face. He tried not the cry since it hurt his abdominal too much but he didn’t care. No one would look for him here, not even his father. He was safe for now.

***

Coulson and May were the first to head down to breakfast, both dressed in thick woollen jumpers to keep out the cold morning air that filled the house. Luckily the kitchen was heated, fresh bread coming out of the oven to their great happiness. They’d barely sat down when Skye, Simmons and Ward had entered the warmth of the kitchen to join them for breakfast. Eating on the loaves and fresh milk, they all felt rather content. Simmons of course had her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea which Alison had offered the English girl with a smile. The others held cups of coffee, except for May who had politely declined the offer.

It was passed nine ofclock by the time Simmons offered to pop into the lab and see if Fitz was there, and when she returned, her brow was contorted in a frown.

“I take it he’s not there.” said Coulson as soon as the scientist had re-entered the room.

“No. Which is strange since Fitz is usually up and about by now.”

“Good mornin’ to ye all.” came Malcom’s cheerful voice as he entered the kitchen. “Did ye all sleep well?”

“Yes, very much thank you.” replied Coulson with a smile. “Malcom, you wouldn’t happen to know where Fitz is by any chance.”

The Scot froze for a second before looking around the table to verify the boy’s absence. “He’s not in th’ lab?”

“No, I just went to check.” Simmons replied.

Malcom nodded before heading over to the pantry. He quickly lifted the hatch and entered the darkened room before flicking the switch on the left wall. There was no one there. But that didn’t seem to put Malcom off. Instead he headed over to the large freezer that stood to one side. He lifted it open, allowing faint wisps of cold smoke to escape. Reaching inside he pulled out a steak. But this one was different from the others.

“It’s thawed.” said May as she inspected the red slab of meat in front of her. “Someone took it out?”

“Malcom?” asked Coulson as he stepped tentatively closer to the other man.

“That bloody bastard.” Malcom’s voice sounded harsh and bitter. “That son of a bitch!”

“Malcom what’s wrong?” asked Simmons from just outside the pantry’s door.

“That man just can’t keep his bloody hands off th’ lad can he? That lad has been back fur three days, and he’s already hit him.”

And with those chilling words they looked at the floor which Malcom had pointed at throughout his rant. The floor held small droplets of blood, certainly not from the steak. Coulson suddenly felt the intense heat of anger flare up in the pit of his stomach, making him curl his fists. Taking a calming breath he broke through the silence.

“But where’s Fitz?”

“He’ll be outside if he’s fallin’ back into his habits.” Malcom began moving out of the pantry towards one of the kitchen’s windows. As he pulled aside the curtains and looked out into the morning dew-filled fields, he saw the familiar shape atop the old swing handing from the oak just in front.

“He’s there all right.”

Coulson gazed at the young scientist slouching in the seat of the swing, his shoulders held in a position that shouted pain and defeat.

“Why’s he wearing a deerstalker?” asked Simmons as she looked at her friend.

“He’s always loved that hat. It’s a source of comfort fur him I guess… But it’s also a way to hide his face usin’ th’ long flaps ye see. I’m guessin’ his dah did a right number on his face.”

“Malcom?” Coulson’s eyes shifted to the other man. “Could you please tell us what really happened in Fitz past? Please.”

Malcom sighed and looked at the team. This was Leo's family, he trusted them with his life every day. “All right. Ye deserve to know. But some things aren’t fur me to tell, and ye’ll have to accept that alright?”

He waited until they had all nodded before sitting down at the wooden table.

“I might as well tell ye the full story so ye’ll all have to bear with me as I give ye th’ background story.”

Chapter Text

“Well as ye already know, my dah was th’ grounds keeper before me and I am by eight years Master Campbell’s elder. We never really talked until I had become th’ grounds keeper. He was a cold child even then, only associating with ‘proper folk’ and all that. When he turned eighteen, he was married to Leo’s mother, Emma.
I still remember th’ first time I’d met her. She had mounds of blond curly hair that made her look like an angel, as if there was a halo around her head if th’ light hit it just right. They were never a good match. A dull minded, heartless lad who cared only about gaining more power and influence than his father had. And his wife, a clever, kind and thoughtful young lass, only marrying that man because of her dah’s endless pushin’. She had wanted to become a biochemist ye know?”
Simmons nodded and explained that Fitz had mentioned that the night before.
“Yes, her own dah broke her dream of being an independent self-sufficient woman just as much as Master Campbell. Yet she loved anyone she met as long as they treated everyone equally and with good manners. Needless to say, it was impossible for her to truly ever love Ross Campbell, and she always felt as if she was never truly his wife. Yes they lived together, but that for her meant nothin’, it was just a signature on a piece of paper that declared her to be his property. and my god how he treated her like that.
In the beginnin’ he tried to be polite and talk with her, taking her out on walks, visiting museums and art galleries. But soon he became tiered of holding up this front and so began to show his true colours. He became jealous of any man that came near her. A compliment in anyone’s eyes was a threat to his and he soon became so possessive it was rare to see her outside th’ house unaccompanied.
Then, in th’ midst of this prison-like life she was forced to live, she became pregnant with Leo. I’d never seen anyone so happy or so scared. She feared for th’ lad’s life ye see, for what his dah would do to him in attempt to continue family legacy and all that rubbish.
Master was beyond pleased. Finally his wife had done somethin’ useful and given him an heir and when they found out it was a boy, he was all the happier.
But he soon became jealous of Leo, of how much time Emma spent devoted to him, mind ye it was th’ normal amount ye’d get from any other mother. He even forced her to leave th’ babe crying all night in his cot sayin’ he needed to learn some discipline.”
Malcom sighed, the sound heavy and filled with frustration towards Ross.
“Ross barely spent any time at home, instead preferrin’ to go gallivantin’ off somewhere secret leaving his family alone. He’d finally gotten the son and heir he craved yet Leo was not what he truly wanted. He’d expected a smaller version of himself but instead he got a young lad who was a carbon copy of his mother. He was exceptionally bright, already readin’ and writin’ by three and soon began to tinker with anythin’ he could get his hands on. They spent so much time together. She loved him like she love nothin’ else and she understood how clever he was. She nurtured his talent, attemptin’ to leave Master in th’ dark so that her child wouldn’t have any more reason to be a freak in his dah’s eyes.”
Malcom got up to lean on the kitchen counter, staring out into the garden where Fitz remained.
“Then she died from Lesch-Nyhan Syndrom.”
Simmons barely suppressed a gasp before covering her mother with her hand.
“What is it Simmons?” asked May, speaking for the whole team in trying to find out what had killed Fitz’s mother.
“It is of yet, an incurable terminal illness. It is known for being rather p…painful. It’s a rare inherited disorder caused by a deficiency of the HGPRT enzyme. The HGPRT deficiency causes a build-up of uric acid in all body fluids resulting in both hyperuricemia and hyperuricosuria, both of which are associated with severe gout and kidney problems. Neurological signs include poor muscle control and moderate intellectual disability. However in the second year s…self-mutilating behaviours begin to manifest like lip and finger biting as well as facial grimacing, involuntary writhing and repetitive movements of arms and leg like those seen in Huntington’s disease. However LNS is an x-linked recessive disease meaning the mutated gene is usually carried by the mother and passed onto her … her son. LNS is present at birth in baby boy and most with this deficiency have severe mental and physical problems throughout life. Affected females are very rare since their second x chromosome m…makes up for the deficiency.” Simmons took in a shuddering breath. “Oh god Fitz.”
Tears were now freely streaming down Simmons, Sky and Malcom’s faces, their eyes slowly turning red. Coulson somehow managed to keep a mask up and stopped the tears from falling. He’d loved his father who’d died while he was still young, yet he knew the pain of losing a parent. He’s mother had died not long before he’d joined SHIELD. He felt his heart clench at the thought of having no one truly in the world.
“Well I guess now we know why he hates it when anyone bites their fingers of lips too often.” Came Mays voice, her calm tone revealing only a hint of the turmoil Malcom and Simmons’ words had caused.
“So Fitz suffers from LNS?” Coulson’s voice trembled with fear.
“Yes he does. But for some reason his condition has not manifested beyond a certain point. As ye can see, he doesn’t show any of the signs Miss Simmons listed, minus that of gout when he was ten.”
Everyone in the room seemed to release a commonly held breath in relief. “So he hasn’t developed any of the neurological problems?” asked Ward, his eyes darting between the Scotsman and Simmons.
Malcom shook his head. “After seein’ his my th’ way she was, it’s clear Fitz hasn’t developed them. That boy is a smart as a hawk is good at catchin’ prey.” A small smile took hold of his features. “Did he ever tell ye that it was him that taught me and Alison how to read and write! I didn’t even know my alphabet before he sat me down at th’ age of eight and became me teacher.”
Everyone smiled at Malcom’s fond memory, all except Ward. “But if he has the condition, why hasn’t he developed the symptoms? It doesn’t make sense!”
“No,” said Coulson “it doesn’t. But first of all we should be happy about that. I doubt he would have made it to university let alone the Academy and our team if he had developed them. I’m sure it is something we could look into with caution once this mission is finished.”
Ward merely nodded.
“Sir, I think we should start looking over the analysis for the samples since it’s been running all night.”
“Yes of course Simmons. We’ll have to go look at the samples at some point. Skye, Simmons, we’ll head down to the lab to see what we’ve got so far and make a plan of what we do next. Ward, go and read over the information and see if HQ sent any more in. Then report in. May I what you to go talk to Fitz.”
May nodded.

***

Chapter Text

“So what have you got for us Simmons?” asked Skye, her small smile attempting to cover up how worried she actually was about her team mate.
“Well, there are definite traces of alien residue but it doesn’t resemble anything I’ve ever seen in this area.”
“Any idea what is causing the residue?” asked Coulson.
“Well it almost seems similar to that left behind Lady Sif or Thor when they open the Bifrost or Rainbow Bridge to Asgard. They show the same electromagnetic signatures with very minor alterations in pattern so it would be safe to assume that is a connection with a planet of galaxy from near Asgard.”
“Is that good?” asked Skye with a raised eyebrow.
Simmons shrugged. “That depends on whether or not the inhabitants of the planet are friendly towards humans and if they have good intensions. Hopefully we will be able to communicate with either Thor or Lady Sif in order to get their opinion or information on this certain connection.”
Coulson turned to the other girl. “Skye can you attempt to make communication in some way using the computer we gave to Sif last time she visited?”
Skye sat down in front of her lap top and began typing furiously. “Just give me a minute.”
After about 3, they had managed to connect not only to Sif but also to the wide screen in the back of the lab, plastering Sif’s face on the large frame.
“Son of Coul. How are you?”
“Well I think. We needed to ask for some advice.”
“Of course. In what may I help you with?”
Simmons stepped forward. “Your computer is about to display the evidence we found in the area of a certain residue that…”
“This is not quite Asgard’s but it is in our galaxy.”
Simmons couldn’t help but smile at the small victory.
“Would you happen to know where exactly the bridge came from?” asked Coulson.
“It is from the planet of the ‘Healereavsår’. They are famous for their amazingly advanced medicinal knowledge. However they are not the type to willingly help anyone who isn’t one of their own, yet their do not intentionally hurt other species.”
“So what you’re saying is that you can hire them?”
“Yes. They offer their services in exchange for something. The price can be as petty as a watch to your childhood memories. However I do know that they have an allegiance with someone from Misgard.”
“Who?”
Sif shook her head. “I am sorry but I do not know. I will enquire but it may take some time. The Healereavsår are rather secretive.”
“We appreciate it either way. Thank you Lady Sif.”
“Take care, son of Coul.”
And with that the screen went black. Coulson turned to the two girls. “I need you to report to HQ and fill them in on our progress. Do the same with Ward when he gets here. Skye I’d like you to scope the internet trying to find out about these people. Simmons, I want you to contact all the professors you know that could help as well as the ones that HQ may suggest.”
“Yes sir.” came the unanimous answer.

***
Ward found Campbell in his office which was rather conveniently situated far away from the rest of the team. Must have been one of the reasons Fitz decided to build the lab where it was. Ross Campbell was sat at his desk with a cigar in one hand staring down at the document before him. His eyes snapped up immediately at the sound of the creaking wood and he glared at the man entering.
“What do you want? I don’t have time for any useless aliens or whatever you’re chasing.”
“Well Sir, ‘I don’t hail Hitler but he was no better that a creature of myth.’”
Ward watched as the cogs turned in the older man’s brain, seeing his eyes widen slightly in understanding before saying “I think ye better lock that door.”
Ward quickly followed the man’s request before turning around to find Campbell leaning against his chair, his cold face now warmed with a malicious grin.
“Sit down.”
He waited for Ward to take the chair before him before continuing. “So you’re like me. Following the tentacles to a different future, definitely a better one I believe. When did you join?”
“That is none of your business.”
Campbell snorted in amusement. “Yes, I can see why they chose you. Do the others on your so called ‘team’ know?”
“If they did I wouldn’t be here, let alone alive.”
The other man nodded grimly in agreement. “Let’s try and keep it that way then. Whenever we see each other outside private meetings, we are not to acknowledge our alliance or the nature of our bond with anyone else. That shouldn’t be hard at all for you.” He paused. “Who is your head?”
“Garrett.”
“Ah. Good man. I always liked him. Strong, a leader and willing to take a chance that most wouldn’t. That’s an asset that our side cannot afford to leave idle.”
“I perfectly agree with you sir.”
“Now, what is the real reason John would take the risk of asking you to talk to me?”
“He wants to know more about the circumstances of your wife’s death as well as why Fitz condition has not followed in the footsteps of his mother.”
Campbell placed his drink on the table, his finger circling the glasses edge, still slightly wet from the drink and his lips.
“I’m not sure how helpful I can be. I was away for almost all of that year and a half that Emma deteriorated slowly. I couldn’t bear to be with neither her nor Fitz so I sought company everywhere other than in these walls. But I shall tell you what I know and what I suspect.”
He took a large swipe of his drink, and with another dark grin, Campbell began speaking.

Chapter Text

Fitz didn’t hear May until she was right next to him, breaking out of the numbness which had taken hold of his body. He reacted by looking away, not wanting her to see his face, glad that the hat’s flaps hid most of the damage from the side. His face wasn’t as swollen as it could have been thanks to the slab of meat, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t puffy and red.
At first May just stood there, happy to wait for Fitz to become comfortable enough to initiate the conversation.
“Does Simmons need me in th’ lab?”
“No, I think her Skye and Coulson and looking over the samples’ information now. But the real question is whether you’re ok.”
Fitz let out a deep breath before quietly whispering “Yer not goin’ to go after my dah if I show you… will ye?”
May regarded Fitz’s posture and tone of voice. “He’s scared his dad will just hurt us and him all the more if we move against him.” she thought. “No, none of us will do anything to Campbell. I promise Fitz.”
The young man nodded his head slightly before after a hesitant pause, turned his head to face the woman next to him.
May had seen a lot worse, injury wise. She had seen a man’s guts being held only by his bare hands and people’s bone penetrating their skin at odd angles. But perhaps because Fitz was so gentle, the complete opposite of a threat that seeing his battered face made her see red. She managed to remain stoic and in control of her breathing but she could see the depth of the hurt in the boy’s eyes. And all thanks to some rich bastard that happened to think that he had the right to hit his son.
“He didn’t break my nose, so I guess that’s a plus.” Fitz said with a small smile on his lips that was more like a wince.
It was clear that blood had flowed through the slightly swollen appendage but its red colour matched that of the rest of his face’s skin.
May knelt down in front of Fitz, her fingers gently prodding at the tender flesh to make sure that nothing was dangerously damaged. She proceeded to check his ribs, having caught sight of the laboured breathing that shook his small chest.
“You’re right. Nothing’s broken, but you should still bind you ribs because two of them are cracked.”
Fitz merely nodded.
“Why did he hit you?” He remained silent. “Fitz? We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s wrong.”
“I…” Fitz breathed in deeply. “He… he wants me to marry… marry Myrna.”
“And you don’t want to.”
“No! I’m sure she’s nice but I…” he swallowed in attempt to clear his tightened throat. “I don’t want to marry, especially her.”
“Why?”
“Because it would mean I wouldn’t be able to work for SHIELD, to work with all of ye. I wouldn’t be able to design anythin’, and help people and agents. I’d never see ye again.”
“If you don’t want to marry, then you shouldn’t have to.” replied May gently. “Answer me truly Fitz. Would you mind if your father disowned you?”
Fitz smiled ever so slightly, shaking his head with the deerstalker’s flaps swinging by his ears. “No, I wouldn’t mind. Made it through university and college without touchin’ Campbell money. I could happily do that for th’ rest of my life.”
May chuckled. Of course Fitz wouldn’t be bothered by money. He was too focused on everything else in life to worry about the cold coins and strips of paper that drove people. No he wanted company that accepted him and allowed him to be his young genius self.
“Well then I’m sure it will be fine if you refuse Campbell.” It didn’t even feel strange not calling that frosty man Fitz’s father.
“Yes I guess so.” Replied Fitz, his mood more relaxed than before, knowing that his team would support his choice. But they weren’t just his team. No, they were his family, the people he trusted with his life and he honestly loved them as he did Alison and Malcom… and his mother though small was the time he had spent with her.
He pushed back the tears to gaze once again at May with a slight smile playing on his lips. “Thank you.”
“Well you can thank me after I’ve bound you ribs and we’ve gone for that ride you promised me.” May replied with a playful smile as she gently led the boy towards the stables.
Having bound his ribs sitting outside, once they’d entered the heavy smell of manure had cleared his head, Fitz looked around the few horses his father hadn’t sold off, his eyes settling on a proud dappled grey at the far end. She wasn’t as young as she had once been but she still had the energy of her youth that went well with her strong stance.
“She’s beautiful.” said May, her eyes shining at the sight of the horse. The agent hadn’t ridden in years and in fact had wanted to get back up on a saddle with a burning desire since she had seen Fitz’s magnificent Max.
“She’s called Ygrin.” Fitz gently took hold of her bridle and began to lead her out of her now unlatched stall door. “She’s more or less for yer height. Yeah, I’d say she’s ‘bout right.” He eyed the horse once again before turning a cheeky grin on the woman. “I’m assumin’ that ye know how to saddle a horse?”
May didn’t even grace him with an answer but merely walked passed him towards the dapple’s equipment and began strapping the horse in.
In less than ten minutes, they were thundering across the Scottish fields, black and grey flying over the green earth. At first May was cautious of the unknown land she was riding on, scared of leading the horse wrong and injuring them both. However, seeing the rosy colour of Fitz’s cheeks as he thundered beside her, May was lost in the light that had taken hold of the boy’s eyes. The sorrow that those orbs had held too much for May’s liking had vanished and replaced with joy at feeling freedom as the northern wind rushed through his curls.
That very same joy began gripping her entire body, as she threw her head back in a hearty laugh, such as she hadn’t done for years. She dug her heels into the dapple’s sides feeling the muscled body beneath her stretch and lengthen with a wider stride that made the wind seem all the stronger.
And with and encouraging shout Fitz followed the older woman across the land, for once forgetting all thoughts about Campbells, money and him and his mother’s disease.

***
Ward took note of the wind-blasted red that nestled in both rider’s cheeks as they returned from outside. May’s mouth was turned at the edges in a solid smile that judging by everyone’s expressions was just as much a shock to them as it was to him.
But what had really made the team gasp was the sight of Fitz’s bashed face which was badly hidden by the deerstalker which he’d replaced atop his head in attempt to hide the purple skin.
Simmons had rushed to him inquiring if he had placed ice on the wounds since he’d used the slab of meat. When Fitz had shaken his head, the biochemist had rushed out to get some from her medical kit. Skye had given him a firm hug with a smile on her lips as Coulson watched from a distance at his team.
“Do you think he’s ok?” he couldn’t help but ask May whose eyes hadn’t wandered from the young Scotsman.
“He’ll make it. He’s always had to deal with either his father or providing for himself. He’d severed ties with Campbell when he left for university, he just didn’t think he had the strength to defy that man again.” She couldn’t help but smile. “But if Campbell thinks that Fitz will marry that girl and suddenly become the good little soldier of a son he’d always dreamed of then he’s going to be sourly disappointed.”
Coulson chuckled. “I couldn’t have thought of a better ending myself.” He sighed. “Now all we have to do is finish this damn case and get out of here. I talked to Siff.”
“And?” May’s interest was peaked. If they could get anything on the alien residue then the sooner they were to leaving this dreaded house.
“The bridge’s residue is from the planet of the ‘Healereavsår’ which according to Siff is part of the same galaxy as Asgard, supposedly famous for their medicinal understanding. She did warn us that they didn’t offer their expertise without a price if they are of a different planet.”
“Are they a threat?”
Coulson shook his head. “No, Siff said that they never ‘intentionally hurt others’. Yet that doesn’t rule out the possibility that in helping someone, they hurt the other, especially since they offer their services. She said the price could be ‘as petty as a watch to as important as your childhood memories’.”
“Anything else?”
“She mentioned them having a contact of sorts on Earth, yet she didn’t know who. She’s looking into it now.”
“Siff is a valuable ally.”
Coulson nodded in agreement. “That she most certainly is, not only for her skills in combat but also just wider knowledge.”
“What about HQ? Any new info we need to know of?”
“No. Ward says they have nothing we haven’t heard or seen.” Coulson paused. “Something is wrong about this case. I think Campbell is keeping something from us. He seems like the kind to dismiss aliens with all his might yet… I don’t know. I feel like he knows something, probably to do with his wife and Fitz.”
“Something is bothering you though.” stated May as she observed her partner.
“I just feel like there is something missing, we’ve overlooked some detail.”
“We’ll find it Phil.” May placed a hand on her partner’s shoulder. And for that moment they were content to see Simmons and Skye mothering Fitz by making sure his swollen face was covered with the ice pack.
In fact they were so engrossed they both missed Ward’s face gaze at the young Scotsman, his eyes glinting with a strange light. The light that means he knows something that not even Fitz knows. And boy was it important.

Chapter Text

Ward took note of the wind-blasted red that nestled in both rider’s cheeks as they returned from outside. May’s mouth was turned at the edges in a solid smile that judging by everyone’s expressions was just as much a shock to them as it was to him.
But what had really made the team gasp was the sight of Fitz’s bashed face which was badly hidden by the deerstalker which he’d replaced atop his head in attempt to hide the purple skin.
Simmons had rushed to him inquiring if he had placed ice on the wounds since he’d used the slab of meat. When Fitz had shaken his head, the biochemist had rushed out to get some from her medical kit. Skye had given him a firm hug with a smile on her lips as Coulson watched from a distance at his team.
“Do you think he’s ok?” he couldn’t help but ask May whose eyes hadn’t wandered from the young Scotsman.
“He’ll make it. He’s always had to deal with either his father or providing for himself. He’d severed ties with Campbell when he left for university, he just didn’t think he had the strength to defy that man again.” She couldn’t help but smile. “But if Campbell thinks that Fitz will marry that girl and suddenly become the good little soldier of a son he’d always dreamed of then he’s going to be sourly disappointed.”
Coulson chuckled. “I couldn’t have thought of a better ending myself.” He sighed. “Now all we have to do is finish this damn case and get out of here. I talked to Siff.”
“And?” May’s interest was piqued. If they could get anything on the alien residue then the sooner they were to leaving this dreaded house.
“The bridge’s residue is from the planet of the ‘Healereavsår’ which according to Siff is part of the same galaxy as Asgard, supposedly famous for their medicinal understanding. She did warn us that they didn’t offer their expertise without a price if they are of a different planet.”
“Are they a threat?”
Coulson shook his head. “No, Siff said that they never ‘intentionally hurt others’. Yet that doesn’t rule out the possibility that in helping someone, they hurt the other, especially since they offer their services. She said the price could be ‘as petty as a watch to as important as your childhood memories’.”
“Anything else?”
“She mentioned them having a contact of sorts on Earth, yet she didn’t know who. She’s looking into it now.”
“Siff is a valuable ally.”
Coulson nodded in agreement. “That she most certainly is, not only for her skills in combat but also just wider knowledge.”
“What about HQ? Any new info we need to know of?”
“No. Ward says they have nothing we haven’t heard or seen.” Coulson paused. “Something is wrong about this case. I think Campbell is keeping something from us. He seems like the kind to dismiss aliens with all his might yet… I don’t know. I feel like he knows something, probably to do with his wife and Fitz.”
“Something is bothering you though.” stated May as she observed her partner.
“I just feel like there is something missing, we’ve overlooked some detail.”
“We’ll find it Phil.” May placed a hand on her partner’s shoulder. And for that moment they were content to see Simmons and Skye mothering Fitz by making sure his swollen face was covered with the ice pack.
In fact they were so engrossed they both missed Ward’s face gaze at the young Scotsman, his eyes glinting with a strange light. The light that means he knows something that not even Fitz knows. And boy was it important.

***
Malcom smiled as he watched Leo sleeping, his slight form curled up beneath the blankets. He was glad to see that the swelling had gone down and that he was in fact looking better. The sooner Leo stopped looking like he’d been pummelled by his father the better… Malcom didn’t think he could take seeing the boy like this again.
He’d managed to escape this loveless house, to make his own way and fortune even went as far as becoming prestigious in his field and gaining a second family. It warmed his heart to know that Leo’s team was so kind and caring when it came to the young Scotsman’s health and happiness. But goodness knows Campbell wanted to tear it all to pieces. The last thing that boy needed was to be roped in to a marriage with that bastard’s daughter.
But what could Malcom do? He was essentially powerless against Campbell meaning he was unable to give Leo more help than patching up his wounds and holding him tight. Not that Malcom ignored the importance of doing such things but he shouldn’t need to. No one deserves to be mistreated, least of all a bright and generous soul like the boy before him, the boy who had told off the other servants and guests when they had made lewd comments about Alice or sneering remarks about Malcom’s intelligence. He still remembered when the boy had burst into the kitchen, his eyes lit with the light of one who had solved a puzzle shouting that he’d found a way to stop the others from being so mean to Malcom. He’d sighed and asked what that solution was only to be met with the joy of Leo proclamation that he would teach him how to read and write himself. The older man had been left speechless, his heart aching as he took in the small boy with an angel’s curls atop his head who offered to teach him one of the few things he had always wished to have learnt.
It had been an arduous process, made all the harder by that fact that Malcom was already in his thirties when they began. But Leo had endless patience when it came to teaching Malcom and soon enough, the older Scotsman went into the town and sat his exams.
It made him laugh when he looked back at how much he had cried when he received his certificate. He, Malcom, had passed an exams and now had qualifications and proof that all those mean words were no longer true. He was no dunce and he had a small eight year old boy with a heart bigger than the sun to thank for that.
Oh how he wished he could help that boy, well now young man, just as he had once been helped. What Malcom wouldn’t do to repay that debt of having been given a child to love as his own despite him and Alison having been unable to have one.
Now he could only hope and pray that when the time came, Leo would be strong enough. Strong enough to stand up and leave, to hold his head up high before Campbell and finally win. To show that monster of a man that he was wrong to have underestimated his son, that Leo was in fact a strong and capable young man.
But Malcom knew that it was a dream. No matter how hard the bird rattles the cage, the cage won’t let the bird escape. The cage may topple off the table, it may become scratched and rough but it will never break open.
And with that final thought, he slipped away leaving Leo to sleep in peace.

Chapter Text

The next day, Coulson decided to get them all out of the house as soon as possible to avoid any contact with Campbell. Otherwise he feared that he could not be held responsible for what would surely happen if his team saw the man.
On the way, Simmons had filled in Fitz on what little information Siff had given them as well as asking Fitz multiple times if he was alright, all of which Fitz brushed aside with a small smile that barely hid his pain.
The air was turning colder and it made a shiver slip up Phil’s spine. They were taking more samples from an area slightly further away from their original spot to see if there were any significant signs of electromagnetic fluctuations or other tale-tale signs of the bridge further on.
It was then that Phil noticed that Fitz was staring of into the rock face of a small mountain not too far away from where they stood. He walked up to him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder making the young man flinch before smiling weakly at his boss.
“What’s over there Fitz.”
“Some caves. I used to play there when I was a child. It was a place where you could be alone, where no one would disturb you. I could do whatever I wanted, even if everybody else I knew would never have let me… A sanctuary of sorts.”
“You know my old house used to have an attic. And that was my space, my sanctuary. I used to love it for what it offered me. Silence, solitude – of the good kind that is.”
“Yes indeed sir.”
Phil looked at the Scotsman sadly. “But then one day I realised that even a sanctuary doesn’t offer only good things. In fact it can offer the bad as well. Sometimes in our isolation we forget who we are leaving behind, who it is that really cares for us. And sometimes we lose our way.”
Fitz nodded solemnly. “and some lose their way more than others while wishin’ never to be found again.” He sighed before turning around. “I should get back to work.”
“Fitz.”
“Yes sir.” he said without looking back.
“You know you can talk to me if you want right?”
“Of course sir.”
“You’re one of us Fitz. You’re a part of this team, and we need you. Don’t forget that.”
“I’ll try sir.”
And with that Coulson watched as the young man walked over to Simmons to help her analyse the data the D.W.A.R.V.E.S had managed to acquire.

***
Campbell had requested that Fitz be woken up in the early hours of the morning and that he would need to look presentable. So Malcom gently lead a half-asleep Fitz into the bathroom where he helped him into the bath, pointedly trying to ignore the deep purple and blue bruising that painted the young man’s body. No wonder Fitz was walking so stiffly.
“What time is it Malcom?” slurred Fitz as he allowed the older man to wash his curls.
“’Tis six o'clock Leo.”
He watched with sadness as the boy’s brow furrowed. “Why so early?”
“Someone wants to see ye.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know lad.”
Fitz didn’t say anything else, knowing full well that it would be one of his father’s friends. From then on, he remained silent and dressed himself in the clothes Malcom had laid out on his bed which did unfortunately involve a kilt but not a pair on knickers which made Fitz sigh in frustration. He did not want to go commando, he wasn’t used to it anymore even though he’d had to do so on a daily basis after his mother died. It was always either a kilt or an uncomfortably stiff suit.
Once dressed he headed downstairs towards the other drawing room where his father always greeted guests since it was on the opposite end of the house, meaning they had to walk through the opulence that was the Campbell manor. It was also one of the few rooms in the house that was sound-proof, excluding Campbell’s own office. Opening and closing the door quietly before looking to see who was there with his father.
“Finally.” came his father’s cold voice. “Come here.”
Fitz walked forward, his eyes still cast towards the floor until his reached the middle of the room.
“My, my how fetchin’ ye look in that kilt Leopold.”
Fitz felt his entire body tense, the thick and heavy feeling of dread coiling in the pit of his stomach making him glad that he hadn’t eaten anything yet or else it would have made a rather sudden re-appearance.
“Leopold!” snapped his father. “Address Robert please.”
Fitz gulped in attempt to clear his throat but it remained stubbornly closed with fear and discomfort. “Good mornin’ Mr McFarlen.”
“Yes,” replied McFarlen as he gazed languidly at the young man “a good mornin’ indeed.”
“Now Leopold,” Campbell stood from his chair and began making his way towards the only door in the room “you are going to stay here and discuss with Robert about your relationship with his daughter as well as between yourselves.”
“But father I’m not going to mar…”
“Don’t be ridiculous Leopold.” Campbell’s eyes seemed to have been filled with flames as he regarded his son before he walked over and opened the door to leave. “You will apologise to Robert and do as he says. You also will write a letter of resignation to be handed to you idiotic group who will be leaving today since you will be marrying on the third which is tomorrow.”
“No.” said Leo, his eyes staring straight into his fathers. Campbell quietly shut the door behind him without leaving the room before stalking up to his son.
“What did you say?”
“I said no. I’m not goin’ to marry tomorrow. I’m not marrin’ anyone especially if they are related to him,” he said pointing an accusatory finger in McFarlen’s direction “and I am not, I repeat not goin’ to ever leave my job and my team unless it is by my own choice.”
The blow never came. Campbell merely glared at Fitz before turning to Robert and saying “I’m sure you will find a way to convince Leopold to do as we agreed.”
McFarlen merely grinned, his hands rubbing together in non to subtle excitement. And with that, Campbell left.
Leo immediately turned around, not willing to have McFarlen behind him where he couldn’t see him.
“Sit please Leopold.” He gestured to the chair beside him at the table. Fitz attempted to walk around to the opposite side but the man caught his collar and dragged him into the chair.
“Now let’s start with the guest list. Your father and I have already taken the liberty to begin this list but you can check over it. Of course you cannot invite any of your…’friends’ but you may invite any other people. That is as long as they are considered eligible by either me or your father. Also these are the vows that you will say with Myrna at the alter in the Campbell family chapel.”
“I’m not lookin’ over these because I am not getting’ married.” he said getting up.
Robert slammed his fist on the desk making the glass of whiskey wobble precariously before cornering Leo against the wall.
“Now look here Leopold!” Robert snarled. “You have been promised me since before the day you were born. When they found that you were a boy your father ruled out marryin’ to me. Not that I would have minded,” Robert said with a lewd smirk as he placed his hands either side of the younger man’s body from which the boy attempted to shrink away from making McFarlen chuckle.
“You don’t know how long I have been waitin’ for this.” He leaned in, close enough that Fitz could smell the alcohol on his warm breath which made his stomach churn. “Ever since we had that delightful night together, I knew I had to have you. I even adopted Myrna so that you could marry her and then once you’d gotten the bitch pregnant, I could have you to myself.”
Fitz’ entire body trembled with fear. He was going to be sick. He was sure of it this time.
“Oh God, oh God.” he cried silently begging for somebody to come here and stop this man, the man that had haunted his nightmares. He thought he would never again have to be in this position. And yet here he was, his back pressed against the wall and McFarlen’s body beginning to press against his front.
He was about to scream for help when McFarlen said “There’s no point in calling for help boy. Your father always knew what we did that night and he doesn’t care. You’re just an object to be sold to the highest bidder. And oh how high I bid for you.” McFarlen’s hand began wondering down Leo's chest which was fluttering under the shallow breaths that racked his lungs.
“They’ll come for me and you can’t stop them.” Fitz stuttered eyeing the door as if it held all the answers in the world.
“Well too bad they’re all being drugged up to the gills right now by you father.” McFarlen laughed, his eyes devouring the young man as he reached his hand towards his own trousers. “He’s using his old hunting rifle. Hunting them like the scum they are.”
Fitz tried to duck out from beneath the man’s hot body but he’d only got half way across the room when McFarlen snagged his collar.
“Malcome! Alice! Help me!” he screamed at the door.
“They won’t come for you boy. They won’t dare cross your father.”
“Let me go! Malcome! Alice! Please help me!”
“How about this Leopold,” McFarlen hissed into his ear “if you come quietly and do as I say for the wedding plans, I won’t touch you… for now. And I’ll also leave that sweet looking young English girl alone as well.”
Robert smiled as he felt the boy’s body tense up even more at the mention of Simmons. Fitz could feel his heart ache at the thought of McFarlen getting his revolting hands on his Simmons. He had to protect Simmons, no matter the cost.
“I have him now.” he thought as Fitz relented and nodded in agreement.

Chapter Text

Campbell’s upper lip lifted in a sneer of disgust at the people who had been in his home for the past week. His usual guards which were as always nameless lugged the Americans and British girl out of his house and into the back of a black minivan. He and Ward had agreed that he too would be drugged at the same time as his ‘team’ so as to arise minimal suspicion when they awoke already on a random plane heading across the world. For all he cared, they could use the team’s jet as scrap metal. Or perhaps his superiors would have use for it. What better way to infiltrate the enemy after all than using one of their own planes?
Campbell smiled as he watched the back of the van disappear over the horizon, taking his son’s last connection out of the country with them. Everything was going according to plan. He turned back into the house, deciding to see how Leopold and Robert were getting on.
He knocked on the drawing room’s door before walking inside, hearing the lock snick into place with a flick of his wrist on the key. If he was surprised to see Robert leaning over the young man to look at the papers on the desk, all the while running his hands up and down the latter’s chest beneath his shirt and nestling his sharp nose in the crevice where the boy’s neck met his shoulders, then Campbell didn’t show it. He had known that Robert had always been… interested in Leopold. It wasn’t as if he himself had an attachment to the boy, as long as he completed his duty. So if that constituted being pulled into the lap of a man your father’s age, so be it.
“Hello again Ross. Didn’t think it would take you so long to gather up all those filthy Americans. I hope you got the lovely resignation letter that Leopold wrote” commented Robert as he allowed his hands to trail further up the inside of Leo’s bare thighs.
“I must say I do love traditional Scottish values like wearin’ a kilt,” smirked McFarlen “it so much less of a hassle, don’t you think Leopold?”
Robert couldn’t help but laugh when the boy remained perfectly still, his vacant expression revealing nothing. The man sighed and removed his hand out from beneath the boy’s kilt and proceeded to smile once again at Campbell.
“But pleasures will have to wait young Leopold, because now we have a wedding to plan for tomorrow.”

***
Skye gasped as she opened her eyes. Her head throbbed and the lingering taste of a something awful remained in her mouth. She was in the back of a black minivan, surrounded by the unconscious bodies of her team mates all of whom, including herself, were cuffed.
“What the hell are we doing here?” Skye thought to herself as she spotted the two heavily-built men in the front seats.
“Are ye sure they won’t wake up?” asked the brunette to his partner who was driving.
“For th’ last time, we calculated th’ doses correctly! They won’t be wakin’ up until they’re on a plane to frickin’ South Africa.”
“Why South Africa?”
The blond one sighed. “It doesn’t have to be South Africa, Mr Campbell just said to shove ‘em onto th’ first plane available. As long as they don’t interfere with th’ weddin’ and are out of th’ country for long enough, that’s all that matters.”
“But why are we goin’ to an English airport? Why not just drop them off at th’ one close to the house?”
“Because it makes it harder for them to get back and it puts less suspicion on Mr Campbell.”
Skye was shocked. She knew Campbell was cold but this was a whole new level. He was getting rid of them so that he could finally marry his son off.
“Well that is not gonna happen.” she thought to herself as she tried to shuffle inconspicuously towards May who was now beginning to wake up. “Hold on Fitz. I’m gonna come and get you.”
She watched as May opened her eyes, the hazy cover of the drugs wearing off, allowing the sharpness to return. She looked over her shoulder at Skye who was now precariously twisting her head so that her pinned up hair was resting on her hands. And that was when May understood.
“The pins.”
She carefully pulled out one of the bobby pins from Skye’s long hair and bending it out she inserted it into the handcuffs lock. It was awkward but after a few minutes there was a small click which to both women’s great relief the drivers did not seem to have heard.
With feline stealth that Skye never seemed to get used to seeing, May slid over to have access to her partner’s hands.
By the time both women were freed, Coulson had woken while Simmons and Ward were still asleep. May worked on the handcuffs before the three of them silently gestured their plan to take out the two drivers. Moving together as a team, they dealt the two men quick strong blows to the head rendering them unconscious and making the driver slump over the wheel, his dead weight still pressing on the gas.
“May! Help me get him out or we’re going to drive off the cliff or something.” cried Coulson to which May reacted immediately, slipping her arms under the man’s other side and heaving alongside her partner. With the front finally cleared, the two agents slipped into the leather seats and May grabbed the wheel, slowly bringing the car back under her control as Coulson checked the glove box for any information or weapons.
Meanwhile, Skye was using the handcuffs to restrain the two men, patting them down to reveal that each had two guns on them and a knife. She reported her findings to her superiors who nodded and asked her to pass them up so that they each had a weapon.
“Skye, check Ward and Simmons. We need them both awake as soon as possible.”
Skye complied and crawled over to the scientist and began attempting to wake her up. Once she could see the girls eyes she attempted the same with Ward but the man remained stubbornly asleep.
“I can’t wake Ward but it could just be that they upped his dosage of the drug since he is larger than all of us.” Skye suggested as she began uncuffing the unconscious man.
“His breathing is steady and he also has a needle mark in his neck so I think you’re right and that we don’t need to worry.” commented Simmons as she leaned over to inspect Ward’s neck. “Why are we here? Last thing I remember was going to bed at the house.”
“Same with all of us.” Coulson said as he looked at the two girls in the back
“Campbell paid these guys to ship us out so that he could marry Fitz off. They said that as long as we were away from the house for a while it wouldn’t matter.”
“We’re about ten minutes from the Scottish-English boarder from what I can tell.” said Coulson as he looked at the map on his lap. “If Campbell is making Fitz marry today, we won’t make it in time to stop him. These men have been driving all night and some of the day. It will take us way too long to get back, especially since we don’t know how to get to the house.”
The whole van went quiet; all of them thinking about what Fitz must be going through all alone at the hands of his father.
“We need someone who knows the area, especially Campbell’s land as well as his mind.”
Simmons suddenly got up and, having found her bag, searched through its pockets until she found a small card.
‘Dr S. Reid’ it said in an elegant hand, and written beneath it was an address for the man’s practice as well has him mobile number.
“I know who can help us.” said Simmons with a smile.

Chapter Text

To say that Dr Reid was surprised to open his front door and find Fitz team standing there would have been an understatement. He quickly invited them inside and asked if they wished any food or drink. He ended up grabbing some bread, butter and jam alongside some tea and coffee.
“We’re sorry for barging in like this,” began Coulson but he was cut short by the doctor’s raised hand.
“I wouldn’t dream of turnin’ ye away for th’ world.” he said as he brushed his hand over his beard. “I told Miss Simmons that if she ever needed anythin’, anythin’ at all to call. I wasn’t lyin’ when I offered my help. Now, tell me…”
The man stopped speaking at the sound of the front door opening and closing, the key being turned in the lock.
“Jack?” Reid asked, to which a voice answered that it was indeed him. “Get in here boy.”
Walking into the living room was a boy of average size and build, his dark hair cut short and close to his scalp. His eyes were clearly the only feature that he shared with his father, the rest being darker and sharper than his father’s own pale, softened face.
“What’s wrong dad? I told th’ office that I had an emergency.” He paused as he survived the room’s new and strange occupants.
“Everyone this is my son Jack. Jack, meet Leofs team.”
The wary look immediately lifted from his brow and his lips curved in a smile as he outstretched his hand and began to greet them, taking in their names and faces.
“So you’re Leofs team then. I’ve wanted to meet who he’s been workin’ with for ages.” The young man smiled brightly, but his eyes dimmed when he didn’t catch sight of the other boy. “Where is Leo? Dah said that I owe him a pint of Haggis.”
“Jack,” Reid got up and placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, making Jack’s eyes widen in trepidation. The man opened his mouth, attempting to get words out but when nothing came Coulson stepped in.
“Leo’s father is attempting to marry him off by the end of the night.”
The effect was immediate, the boy’s eyes darkened and his mouth pulled itself into a snarl. “That bastard! He has no right! No right whatsoever!”
Jack hid his face in his hands, attempting to regain some semblance of control over his breathing. The room was silent until he lifted his head again, his eyes beginning to fill with tears.
“Who’s Campbell tryin’ to sell him off to this time?”
“A girl named Myrna.” said May, her face impassive as always.
Jack’s, on the other hand seemed to pale even further as did his father’s. The doctor looked at May in horror as his son covered his mouth with two trembling hands.
“No. Not McFarlen’s daughter. Oh good god have mercy.” the doctor whispered. Jack then suddenly sprinted from the room, his face tinged unpleasantly atop his pale cheeks. The entire team winced as they heard the young man losing his stomach contents at the news, which only made their own ones churn. What could be so bad that Jack had thrown up?
Once the boy returned from his impromptu trip to the toilet, he sat down trembling.
“I don’t know how much you know about McFarlen and his daughter…” he began.
“We don’t know anything really other than the fact that both him and Campbell want Fitz to marry Myrna.” supplied Skye.
“Well, th’ first thing ye should know is that McFarlen… well let’s say that he has more reasons behind wantin’ his daughter to marry Leo.” spoke the doctor.
“What do you mean? What kind of interests?” asked Simmons, her brow furrowed in confusion.
Jack swallowed. “He is interested in Leo… in a sexual way.”
There was a moment of pure silence before it was broken by Skye’s outcry of “What?”
“I’m afraid so.” said Dr Reid his entire body slumped with the weight of his words. “McFarlen has always lusted after Leo ever since he was a teenager. You’d of had to be a blind man to not see it.”
“But didn’t you tell Campbell that there was more to the marriage? Surely he wouldn’t allow it if he knew what McFarlen really wanted?”
Jack shook his head. “He already knows about McFarlen, and he doesn’t give a shit. As long as Leo gives him an heir and Campbell is sure that he will have even more power than before, he really couldn’t care less.” Jack snorted as he looked at the team’s shocked faces. “We are talkin’ about th’ man who locked his fifteen year-old son in a room with another ‘possible bride’ tellin’ him he wasn’t allowed to leave until he slept with her.”
“What?” May’s voice was beginning to betray the turmoil she felt beneath. How dare they do that to Leo, how dare they do that to a child.
“Ross Campbell isn’t known for his kindness, and neither is McFarlen.” spat Dr Reid. “Th’ amount of times that Leo came to this house is testimony to that.”
“We have to go get him back before that bastard can marry him off to McFarlen and his daughter.” Jack pushed his chair back as he got up, ready to save his friend.
“Surely we should make a plan here and then go.” cut in Ward who was looking at Coulson.
“We’ll make one on the way. We don’t have time to waste. Either we leave now or we run the risk of not getting to Fitz on time.”
“Well what are we waiting for then?” Skye barked as she too pushed her chair back and began slipping her arms into her coat.
“I couldn’t agree more.” said Coulson as he followed the girls lead. As they all filed out the room, grabbing their bags and coats. Skye was just about to follow the others when she spotted Ward typing on his phone rapidly, his face scrunched with uneasiness.
“Hey, are you okay?” she asked him calmly.
Ward finished his message before looking at the brunette. “I’m just worried about Fitz. What if we get there and it will be too late?”
“We can always take him away and I can hack into the system to delete any marriage documents there may be.” She said with a small smile. “Everything will be fine.”
Ward merely nodded before the two of them walked out and got into the van.

<Plan went wrong.>
<Team woke up and overpowered the men before we were on the plane.>
<I haven’t blown my cover but have no way of stopping them without doing so.>
<Are heading over to Campbell now.>
<Suggest you warn Ross and get him to move the wedding forward. H.H>
<Received and understood. Maintain cover at all costs. H.H>

***
Fitz sighed as Allison gently took his clenched fist with her calloused fingers to stop him rubbing his eyes yet again. The glassy orbs were bloodshot and irritated by too many tears, too little sleep and the darkness that had permanently settled over him, thick thorns imbedding themselves into his skin, scrubbed raw in the scalding bath that Malcom had lowered him into. The foulest of cusses had passed through the older man’s worry-bitten lips, his entire body the image of someone who is both angry at their inability to help the ones they love as well as at the people responsible for their loved one’s hurt. He had watched as the boy he saw as his own flesh and blood lay limp in his arm, face turned in and resting on the mound of fabric formed by Malcom’s rolled up sleeves.
“Bastards!” Malcom had cried, his voice hoarse with pain as he laid an unresponsive Fitz into the marble-white bathtub, the water lapping at the pale skin and curled hair. “Those damn bastards!”
He had proceeded to wash the young man as he had done so many a time before, his life and Leo’s threatened constantly to be silent and to merely comply. Comply with Campbell’s will, comply to ignore Leo’s pain and McFarlen’s hell-brought lust. It made molten lava pool in the depths of Malcom’s stomach.
So many times he had thought about leaving the Campbell household, his movements spurred by his disgust at the house’s master. But then his aching heart would think of the boy, the sweet boy that had taught him to read and write, who looked at him and Alison, the two people he had let into his young heart.
Malcom could never leave, staying to protect the boy as had Alison … their little lion. Their little Leo. Kind and sweet Alison who was now holding the boy as he shook in her arms, his knees buckling under the future, the dark future that threatened to overwhelm him in merely a few minutes. A pig to slaughter.
“Shh,” Alison whispered, her thumbs rubbing circles into Leo’s back in attempt to sooth him “Ma dear boy. Ma poor boy. I’d give anythin’ to be able to stop this.”
“We both would.”
Alison looked at Malcom with deep sadness in the lines of her face. “I cannae promise ye anythin’, I will neve’ lie to ye. But I can tell ye that…” Alison swallowed almost painfully. “that ye my loved ye so much. She loved ye like nothin’ else in the world. Just as Malcom and I love ye Leo. Leo, ma son. Ma precious boy.”
And with those words, Fitz’s eyes once again welled up with fresh tears that he squeezed between his tightly clenched lids, his lip bloody from biting down on them so hard. His knuckles whitened as he clutched onto Alison for dear life, as if time would stop as long as he held her and her him.
Malcom wiped his tears on his sleeve before glancing at the clock, his stomach dropping even further. Taking a cautious step forward he gently placed his hands on Fitz’s shoulders, making him turn around slowly. Lifting his hands to cup the young man’s face, he gently wiped away the salty stains with the pads of his thumbs before embracing him, his heart aching under the same iron grip that he’d seen when Fitz had hugged Alison.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” His voice shook as he looked at Alison, his wife’s face over their son’s shoulder.
“I know.” came the weak whisper. “Just promise me one thing.”
“Yes?”
“Don’t blame yerselves. Please? And tell… and tell ma team not to blame themselves. It isn’t any of yer fault. Thank ye for havin’ loved me. Ye made ma life better. Please don’t forget that… I… I love ye.”
As he watched Alison’s tear filled eyes, her washing-red fingers attempting to cover her trembling chin and lips, Malcom wasn’t sure how but he held the boy tighter, barely breathing for fear of harming him in their last moments together.
Then there was a knock. The three of them barely had time to pull away before in walked Campbell, his cold eyes immediately latching onto his son.
“We must begin making our way to the chapel. We’ve had to push the time forward by about two hours so we must leave now.” He eyed his son up and down critically, inspecting the merchandise that he was about to sell on before he placed a vice-like grip on his shoulder to steer the young man out of his room before swiftly locking the exit. Malcom took a few seconds to understand the consequences of having had the door swung and locked before his very nose. He began to slam his fist against the heavy oaken door scream at his master.
“Stop this Sir! Let us out. We’ve been with him since he was a wee boy. Please let us be with Leo today in chapel.” implored Alice through the wood to which Campbell sneered.
“That is precisely why you shan’t be there today. You both care about him too much, I don’t trust you to remain in line and not muck this up. I have already gotten rid of his team and now I have gotten rid of you for today. This marriage is happening because I will it and you will both obey me by remaining here.” Campbell turned away from the room and began to drag the boy with him along the corridor the sound of Malcom saying to be strong and Alison’s weeping voice saying everything would be okay drifting the closer he was to the chapel.

Chapter Text

Ward looked around at his team from the back of car before glancing at his watch. He’d received a message saying that Campbell had pushed the wedding forward by three hours. The Scotsman probably would have asked for more time if it hadn’t been for the fact that the priest had not arrived any earlier. All the same, Ward knew that they would never make it in time to save Fitz from marriage which meant that his cover would not have to be unnecessarily blown and Hydra would obtain something rather valuable.
It should have made him feel elated – helping Hydra and Ross in turn was helping his master. Yet the knowledge that the young man who had saved his life, who he had not realised until now was in some bizarre way like a younger brother was to be married into misery. Into misery and right into Hydra’s hands. But what could he do? Nothing. He had his orders. For now he just had to wait out the car drive while keeping his face the perfect image of a worried Ward.

***
The chapel was cold and Fitz shivered despite how hard he tried, his usually steady hands, his engineer hands, trembled as he picked up the ring which was on his side of the red velvet pillow. He kept his eyes on Myrna’s hands, anything to avoid looking at anyone lest they see his heart and soul breaking behind his blue eyes. When he was forced once more to look upwards and at the girl’s face, he did so unseeing, feeling his body seize up with the weight of the gold ring upon his fourth finger, the one that Jack had once teased had knuckles too large to allow a ring to encircle it. Fitz prayed with all his might that the ring wouldn’t pass, that it would get so stuck they would have to interrupt the ceremony. He wished that any moment now his friends, his family would come through the chapel doors and get him out of this mess, and save him from his fate. But the doors remained closed, the heavy oaken slabs holding him in and the light outside. The only light was that of the candles and the tainted colours of the glass windows which made the ring look almost red as it slipped onto his finger. He wanted to throw up.
The priest spoke some words in both Latin, English and Gaelic, his voice booming amongst the stone walls and pillars making Fitz stop himself from covering his ears and screaming. He felt everyone’s gases piercing his flesh and into his body. His fathers were on his back, his now wife before him, his … father-in-law behind her as well as the priests and the guests. All looked upon him as he was told that he may kiss his bride. He hesitated, all muscle going hard and frigid as he forced himself to lean forward and with open and dead-looking eyes to place his lips upon Myrna’s.
He pulled away to the sound of claps, offered his arm to his now newlywed wife and proceeded to walk stiffly out of the chapel paying no heed as to whether or not the others were following them or not. They were all quickly hushed up into the great house for the feast. Being the bride and groom, Fitz and Myrna were given the seats of honour at the head of the table and the former couldn’t help but wonder if this is how his own mother had felt on her wedding day. If she had felt like she was slowly drowning in her pain, whether her skin had crawled with horror at the thought of what was still to come and if she’d ever thought of the release the could be found.
Leaning over discretely to his father Fitz caught the man’s attention and whispered. “Sir, could Malcom and Alice be allowed out of th’ room and be here?”
Campbell scoffed at his son’s plea. “They will leave that room when ye have lain with yer wife and no sooner.”
Through the rest of the dinner Fitz was barely able to reply to the various compliments and congratulations that were sent his and Myrna’s way and was thankful when his father and father-in-law took it upon themselves to speak for the newly-weds.
It was with a deepening sense of dread that he realised that it was time to lead Myrna upstairs to the pre-prepared room and consummate their union. Under the steel gazes of Campbell and McFarlen and the knowing chuckles of the guests, Fitz walked mechanically with his wife to the stairs, slowly reciting … in order to keep himself calm enough to walk.
Having arrived at the door, Campbell turned and addressed McFarlen. “I won’t be joining ye but I have full confidence that ye will make sure that what needs to be done is done.”
McFarlen nodded before forcefully making the couple enter the room. Fitz had never been in this particular bedroom but he instantly understood why. The windows were bared so that even if the 10 meter drop wasn’t enough to deter the room’s occupants they would have no escape via that way. A thick cushioning fabric lined the walls, absorbing the majority of the sound that emanated within the room, essentially shielding it off from the rest of the house. The door itself was heavy oak like many others in the Campbell mansion but it was lined with a large set of deadbolts that ensured no exit which McFarlen himself was doing up with pleasure.
It was to his rapidly amounting horror that Fitz realised that the man intended to watch the consummation giving him no chance to persuade Myrna of his unwillingness or even knock her unconscious if necessary.
“Well ye best get to it.” McFarlen grinned lewdly at the two of them. “Strip.”
Without a moment’s hesitation Myrna began to undo her pristine white gown leaving herself in her undergarments to Fitz’s horror.
“P…please stop.” He stuttered, his eyes darting wildly between father and daughter.
“Now Myrna, it isn’t fair that you are so underdressed when young Leopold is still in full attire.” He slowly deposited himself into the large armchair that had been provided for him. “I suggest you help him.”
Myrna walked up to Fitz and immediately began attempting to undo his waistcoat buttons before the engineer grabbed her hands. “No. I don’t want this and so far nothin’ has indicated to me that ye want it either.”
“Don’t be ridiculous boy. Neither of you have any choice in the matter. So I suggest you get on with it.”
Fitz turned to face him. “No. I refuse to let ye and my father use me like this anymore.”
“I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this Leopold.” McFarlen sighed disappointedly as he withdrew a glass syringe from his coat pocket, pushing the plunger just enough for a thin jet of liquid to escape. “I’ll just have to give you a helping hand. It’ll be just like old times. I bet you’ve missed handing over everything to someone else, being paralysed.”
“No!” Fitz’s pupils had grown with pure fear, the blue of his iris barely visible under the panic that held his features. “I won’t let ye do that to me ever again. I won’t be yer victim anymore.”
With an unhappy sneer, McFarlen lunged at the young man only to plunge the syringe into Myrna’s arm when Fitz sidestepped out of the way. They watched as she managed to get onto the bed, her body rapidly beginning to shake as her muscles gave way to the relaxant and were no longer able to support her.
Wasting no time, McFarlen turned to Fitz once more, paying no heed to his incapacitated daughter. He swung his fist out, catching the boy square on the cheek before handing a blow to the stomach which made Fitz double over wheezing. Grasping at the boy’s curled locks, he yanked his head up to stare at him in the eyes.
“You are mine Leopold! Your father good as gave you to me, do you understand! Your own god-forsaken team left you behind because they didn’t care about you. They probably think they’re better off without you, you worthless piece of shit. You’re just as useful as your mother. That bitch was only good enough to be bred and follow orders. You will do as I tell you. You will fuck my daughter and consummate this marriage or so help me god.”
Fitz eyes narrowed with steely resolve as he stared down his abuser. “No.”
“Have it yer way boy.” McFarlen snarled as he heaved Fitz up by the hair and began dragging him towards the bed. Seeing the possibility of escape swiftly diminishing with every moment, he dropped his weight suddenly, snapping his elbow back and cracking it into McFarlen’s nose. The older man immediately let go of his grip on the boy in favour of gripping his now bleeding and broken nose, his groans of pain cutting through the rooms as Fitz ran towards the door. Attempting to undo the locks with his quivering hands, he barely heard McFarlen walk up behind him before he wrapped him in a choke-hold. Immediately he started to scratch at the holding arm before he swung one arm across to break the attacker’s hold then his other arm’s elbow to once again hit the bloody nose. Turning around swiftly he dealt a kick between the older man’s legs taking great joy in the pained wheezes that followed as he snatched the keys out of McFarlen’s jacket pocket.
Unlocking the door, Fitz was barely in his right mind as he locked the door behind himself, McFarlen’s cries following him as he sprinted down the Campbell halls, using the servants’ stairs to avoid the rest of the house’s occupants. Tearing out the house and into the darkening landscape he kept running, his blood pumping through his body with adrenalin as he made for the caves.
Only once he finally arrived there, his mind, which had been numbed by the panic and desperation, finally settled down long enough for him to think about McFarlen’s words. He was alone. His team hadn’t come back for him, they hadn’t saved him. He had hoped that his father had removed them from the Campbell property in an attempt to force the marriage but now it seemed as if this was not the case. They had truly abandoned him, his true family had left him for a fate worse than death. All at once he felt the cold sink into him. He felt the darkness that had consumed his life before S.H.I.E.L.D return with vengeance. Sinking to his knees he curled in on himself within the stone cavern.