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Grant Ward sighed, and tried another round of pushups in his cell. Dinner was late, and it was enchilada night. He supposed now that he had voluntarily surrendered to Phil Coulson after his escape, enchiladas wrapped in a whole wheat “wrap” was the best thing he would have to look forward to for the rest of his life. Both he and Skye were unappreciative to say the least of Ward’s effort to stop his brother. Oddly, he had not seen Phil in a number of days. Grant somewhere deep inside almost hoped Christian was screwing Phil over but good. But he wouldn’t wish his brother on anyone, Coulson included. He had tried to warn Skye about her father, and Phil about his brother. But Grant supposed he had told so many lies, they no longer believed him when he spoke the truth. His pushups and pity party were interrupted by the creak of the door. At first, Grant assumed the position on the wall, assuming this was May with dinner. But the gait was shuffling, wrong. Grant turned around to see Fitz once again come to see him. There was a smile on his face, and a brightness in his eyes Grant had missed.
“Hello, Leo. I’m glad you came to talk to me again,” Grant began. Leo sat on the metal chair, and struggled to say something. Finally he spat out, “Coulson’s back. And, and Zharpititsa!” Grant was puzzled. “I’m glad Coulson’s back. I didn’t know he left. But what does a Russian firebird have to do with anything?” This seemed to make Fitz even happier. “It sank! I mean, it’s sad it sank, but it sank, mate!” Grant cocked his head to the side and asked, “Zharpititsa—that’s Firebird in Russian. If it sank, it was a boat, and following Russian naming conventions, it was a cruiser.” Fitz vigorously shook his head, “No, it wasn’t on the water, it was in the water because….grew!” This puzzled Grant, “Leo, ships don’t grow.” Fitz pulled his hair in frustration, “It wasn’t growing it was grew! The boat goes in the water for grew!” Grant Ward had a sudden revelation, “You mean, it was a submarine for the Russian GRU?” Fitz stood up and pointed at Grant, “YES! Yes! Submarine GRU Submarine! And the Medpod in it broke the skin!” Ward’s jaw hit the floor. Fitz smiled with tears in the corners of his eyes. “Bad switch, like you said!” Okay, this was better than enchiladas with a fork and a bottle of Schneider Aventinus, thought Grant. Fitz, the friend he never thought he needed until Garrett had sent him on a mission to Coulson’s team, the man Grant had hurt the worst of all of them, save Skye, finally had hard evidence that Grant was not trying to kill Jemma and him when he dropped the Medbay from the back of the Bus. There was, it turned out, a switch on the outside of the Medbay that theoretically Grant could have flipped to make sure the Medbay sank. Despite Grant’s protestations to the contrary, Coulson, and even Fitz assumed he had flipped it. A plane crash with another Medbay that happened the week after his final suicide attempt was blamed on a suicidal passenger. But the Russian sub was an accident beyond a reasonable doubt. Both men were cheering too hard to hear Skye enter the room, but the moment Grant noticed, he stood straight up and quieted down.
Skye looked as if she had just washed her face after a good cry. There were also healing stitches on her leg, and a single black eye. Grant ached with the wish that he could just hold her, take as much of the pain she was feeling away from her as she could. Fitz smiled, said, “Catch you at dinner, mate,” and shuffled back up the staircase. That tough-girl exterior Skye brought into every previous conversation here at the Playground was shaking. A tear slipped from the corner of her right eye. “Grant, I should have let you tell me what you knew about my father. We all should have believed you when it came to what a creep your brother was. We were almost too late for Coulson. And for me. You told so many lies, Grant.” Grant nodded, “But I have told you the truth ever since the first night you came to see me here. And I will tell you the truth for the rest of my life.” Skye swallowed and nodded. “Grant, we assumed the worst about the incident with the Medbay. Now it looks like a bad batch of switches. You didn’t deliberately hurt Fitz. Your brother had turned Coulson over to my father, who tried to make me…” Skye couldn’t go on. She collapsed in the chair, and started crying again. This was torture. Skye was falling apart, and all Grant could do was sit there on the other side of the laser barrier and watch. Skye regained enough of her composure to pull something out of her pocket. It was the button May and Coulson would use whenever they needed into his cell. Skye stood up, aimed the button, closed her eyes, and pressed it. She then threw it down as the laser barrier switched off and ran into Grant’s arms, to have an ugly cry in the only place she ever truly felt safe. Grant’s own vision was getting a bit blurry. Skye was in his arms, at last. She finally believed him, and she would finally let him do what we wanted, which was spend the rest of his life keeping her safe. He looked up to find Coulson, who had picked up the button and laid a set of clothes on the chair. Coulson looked awful. Christian and Skye’s father had really worked Coulson over, but he still gave one of those enigmatic Coulson smiles as he looked at Ward and Skye. “Come on, now. It’s enchilada night. I’ll see the two of you upstairs.”