Chapter Text
He was just settling down for a very well deserved nap, when his phone went off. Grant's whole body hurt, and the act of rolling over to reach his phone sent pain shooting up his side, and he fired off a series of curses as he grabbed the device off of his nightstand. His bruises had bruises, and that thing they'd been called in to subdue had gotten in a good swipe with it's tusks before the bomb had stunned it. He looked at his screen, and he felt his stomach drop.
My Office. Now. -Coulson
"Perfect." He winced, swinging his legs off of the bed and pushed himself up stiffly. He limped out into the hallway and up the spiral staircase, passing his teammates who were engrossed in what looked like a very close game of Mario Kart. Coulson was sitting behind his desk, looking at his desktop, and he was grinning. Grant's instincts were still good, a bit battered, but intact and a happy Coulson wasn't going to bode well.
"Sir?" Grant asked, prompting the agent to look up from the screen. "Oh good, you can stand. I have a message from Commander Hill. She wants to know if you were planning to attend your high school reunion."
Shit, he knows. Grant thought, folding his arms and ignoring the screaming pain in his ribs. He'd gotten the email on his civilian account a month ago, and he'd dismissed it without a second thought. Even if work didn't allow him to be on a separate continent, he'd rather be kidnapped and tortured then even consider going. High school had been one series of humiliations after another. Nobody was going to stick their neck out for the undersized, and over weight kid they knew was too much of a wuss to fight back when taking a beating.
"Commander Hill, sir? Doesn't she have more important things to be doing?" It was a fair question, recalling her remarks on his evaluation prior to joining the team, he felt a twinge of annoyance. Coulson's smiled stayed fixed, and he gestured for Grant to sit in one of the blessedly well padded chairs. "She's the one keeping Fury off our backs, and she's been reviewing our paperwork. Commander Hill thinks it might benefit you to get out into an environment like the reunion to see if you've improved beyond porcupine." Grant glowered at the comment, easing himself into the chair, exhaling heavily. He must have cracked a rib or two, he'd have to have Simmons take a look at it. He might as well have a futon installed in the lab given how often he'd needed to go in for attention lately.
"I'm certain I have, and if it's all the same to you i'd really rather have a drunk hockey player play dentist on me with a pair of rusty pliers than go anywhere near the Boston Harbor Hotel this weekend." Honesty was the best policy here because it was becoming increasingly apparent that Coulson wasn't going to let this slide.
"It hasn't gone unnoticed that you've been doing much better especially with the team, but I do think it'll be good for you. If only to get closure, and don't lie to me and say that you don't need it." The statement had been simple, but it nailed Grant between the eyes. The Asgardian Staff hadn't just stirred up only his worst memory, but all of the memories he'd worked so hard to bury. Mocking laughter, glares across hallways, and always a sense of hopelessness he thought he'd drown in. Going back and seeing the people who didn't lift a finger to help he and his brother safely navigate their adolescence was the least pleasant idea he'd heard from anyone in months.
"How about I just say no and we leave it at that. Give Hill the message for me, i'm going to go get an ice pack." Forcing himself up out of the chair, Grant limped out, ignoring the pad of footsteps behind him. He was going to get his ice pack, as many painkillers as Simmons was willing to give him, and then he was going to go to sleep and forget the entirety of this conversation. "It's themed. I read the email. How can you resist that?" Coulson asked, following Grant down the stairs and into the lounge. "Just watch me." Grant snarled, his tone attracting the attention of Fitz, Skye, and Simmons.
"What's themed?" Skye asked, her eyes darting curiously over to Coulson, giving him her best puppy dog expression. The man was a sucker for it, and it made Grant roll his eyes hard enough to pull something. "Oh good, you three can help me with this. Grant's high school reunion is James Bond themed and this weekend and he refuses to go. That of course means he's going to go, get dressed to the nines, and he needs a date."
Grant itched to turn and start yelling but being an asshole about it was just going to make this much worse than it already was, even if it didn't feel possible at the moment. "You could take Fitz, he could totally be a Bond Girl." Skye suggested, trying to stifle her giggling in the sleeve of her sweater. Fitz glared at her, the expression of horror on his face was a close match for the one on Grant's own. "No. That's strictly when a cover is required." Skye's giggling was no longer hidden now, she was leaning into Simmons' shoulder, her arms wrapped around her stomach. Grant's undercover identities were varied, and covers were covers, it never bothered him but he never enjoyed it either.
"You could take Skye. She could make a spectacle of herself and totally take the attention off of you." Fitz said, still looking disgusted. His attraction to Skye was taking a back seat to his annoyance at the moment apparently. Skye's head shot up, her face paling. "Ew! No! First, gross, second, that's like cradle robbery! All of the embarrassing high school pictures in the world wouldn't be worth being my S.O.'s date." She elbowed Fitz in the side, and he fell sideways off of the couch.
"Gee, thanks Skye. I really appreciate how clear you are on my complete lack of appeal. I'm also not that old, i'm 28. If I were 30 you could start with the old jokes." This was a nightmare, if they were in on it now he'd have to go. The only one who hadn't said anything yet was Simmons, and he prayed to the universe that she'd side with him. They had developed an understanding beyond that of colleagues and he'd be lying if he said that watching her work, and spending time in her company wasn't his favorite way to deal with the long hours of nothing up in the air.
"I'll go. It feels like ages since we've done anything even remotely recreational off the Bus, and if it's as bad as you're making it out to be, we can leave and find a bar to hole up in. Besides, getting dressed up will be fun " Simmons was looking right up at him, smiling gently and it was the smile she only had for him. She said it like it was the simplest thing in the world, and it made him believe that maybe it could be just that. "I-you-really? You'd do that for me?" he asked, making his way down the rest of the stairs to stand by her end of the couch. The biochemist nodded, brushing a few stray hairs out of her eyes, still smiling at him. "Absolutely. You did jump out of a plane for me. I think handling a few deteriorating mean girls, and meat heads looking to re-live their former glory should be easy enough." Her tone was absolutely certain, and it was the one she used when she was about to do some serious science to something lying dead on one of her tables. The whole thing wouldn't be a total disaster after all.
"It's settled then, Ward gets to go show up everyone who laughed at him, and Simmons gets to be his significantly better half for the evening." Coulson said, looking over at the two of them. He looked entirely too pleased, and it made Grant suspicious. Maybe his fondness for Simmons hadn't been quite as discreet as he thought.