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Day 7: Made to watch with Fitzsimmons

Summary:

On an infiltration of a Hydra facility, Fitzsimmons run wildly through the halls, dropping science traps everywhere. And then they come face to face with Ward and a few others. Ward gets caught in a science bomb, but Simmons refuses to diffuse it. And so they torture Fitz.

Notes:

Kinda like this one!

Work Text:

On the bright side, Fitzsimmons did get to bombard Ward with their science children. That was the only bright side. 

The team had been sent to infiltrate a Hydra facility, and Fitzsimmons had prepared all sorts of science bombs for the trip. Everything from simple tranquillisers to numbing jets, from trapping nets to little devices that would scuttle away and stay hidden, and every few minutes, make a dinging sound. Fitzsimmons were acting like kids on a playground, they were so excited. And so they ran through the compound, dropping trap after trap as they made their way down the hallways. Little clinks and scutters followed their quiet footsteps as the traps took their places. 

And then they turned the corner and screeched to a stop. Five Hydra officers, made of three soldiers armed to the teeth, a woman with long curly hair… and Ward. 

“Well, hello, there,” the woman said. “Grant, I presume these are the scientists?” 

Ward nodded, taking two handcuffs from one of the soldiers. He slowly walked towards Fitzsimmons, keeping close eyes on their armfulls of science bombs. He stood in front of Fitz, who was staring at the ground. 

“You remember me, Fitzy?” he taunted, putting a finger under his chin. 

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” Fitz snarled, smacking his hand away. 

Then hell broke loose. Ward had stepped behind them, pulling Fitz’s arms behind him. And then he stepped back a little too far. Right into the range of triggering one of the traps. Ward let out a yelp as a trip wire flew out, wrapping itself around his legs. He flailed, falling to the ground, triggering another trap. Within seconds, his legs were completely covered in a pulsing slimy mess. It hardened quickly, and he swore. 

“Dammit, Fitzsimmons! What is this?” 

“Ha!” Simmons cried happily, pointing a finger at him. “ That is a compound that fills the space around it with growths, then hardens and freezes everything in place. Fitz thought of the idea and I made it,” she boasted. 

“Well, get him out!” the woman cried, hesitant to approach him. 

The mass was very very slowly creeping up Ward’s body. 

“Why? He nearly killed us,” Fitz said, turning back around. 

“Here’s why.” 

One of the soldiers yanked Fitz by the shoulder and threw him on the ground. He deftly stomped on Fitz’s shin, which gave an epic crack. Fitz and Simmons both screamed. She moved to run to him, but the other guard pointed his gun at her. 

“Get him out,” the woman ordered again. 

“No!” Fitz cried. “Simmons, don’t do it! If he stays in there long enough, his legs will go completely numb and he’ll have to go through int-” 

“Yes, I’m well aware of what will happen if he stays in it, Fitz!” Simmons said. “It’ll just take a while to get him out! We didn’t bring the reverse-” 

“Tell us what you need, we’re not far from the lab-” the woman started. 

“NO!” Fitz screamed again. “Simmons, don’t do it!” 

Simmons looked at Fitz, really looked at him, and she understood. She straightened her back, turned to the woman, and smiled. 

“No.” 

The woman’s face contorted with anger. She exhaled heavily through her nose, then strode over to one of the guards. She whispered in his ear, and he nodded. He dug something out of one of his pockets and handed it to her. She flicked open a pocket knife. 

“Oh, nonono,” Simmons cried. “I’ll do it! We need-” 

“NO!” Fitz yelled again. “Simmons, I’ll take it! Whatever it is! Just let him suffer!” 

“I hurt you that bad, huh?” Ward said, still straining against the hardened plastic. 

“SHUT UP!” Fitzsimmons yelled at him. 

“Fitz, they want to torture you, they broke your leg!” Simmons said, kneeling beside him, glancing at his broken shin. 

“I don’t care,” he said, lowering his voice to a whisper. Simmons leaned in to hear him. “Just five more minutes. Then free him.” 

“But after that long-” she whispered. 

“Exactly. They can’t hurt me that bad in five minutes, can they?” he said, attempting a reassuring smile. 

“Oh my god I’m going to kill you,” Simmons whispered back. “Fine. Five minutes.” 

Simmons stepped back from him and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. 

“That bastard tried to kill us. He can tolerate being locked in some plastic for a while,” she snarled. 

The woman nodded. “You made your choice.” 

She approached Fitz with the knife. He looked at her, not breaking eye contact. She traced the line of his nose and his cheekbone with the knife, not drawing any blood. Then, in a swift movement, she pushed the tip into his skin and sliced open his cheek. Fitz yelped and jerked away. Simmons inhaled sharply. Her eyes welled. 

Fitz looked at her, then at Ward, then offered her a shaky smile. The woman drew back her other hand, made a fist. And punched him hard in the ribs. Fitz’s mouth dropped open in pain as a snap echoed through the room. He whimpered as he realised his rib was broken. The woman smiled. She took out the knife and cut away his shirt. Then, she placed the tip of the knife into his skin. Fitz shakily inhaled and held his breath. 

The woman began to carve. 

At first, Fitz bit his tongue, but within seconds, he was screaming. Simmons was sobbing, sitting on the floor. The woman only grinned and kept dragging the knife through Fitz’s skin. Blood flowed from the wounds in huge waves, puddling around them. Fitz trembled and screamed and wailed. And yet he let it continue. 

Until, finally, Simmons let out a huge scream. Ward had started freaking out and he froze, staring at her. The woman stopped, removing her knife, and looked at her. 

“ENOUGH!” she yelled “I’LL DO IT!” 

Fitz exhaled and continued to sob. The blood was still flowing. Simmons couldn’t tell what the woman had carved into his abdomen, but his stomach didn’t even look like there was any skin left. Simmons took a deep breath and looked back at Ward. He was crying, and scared . Good. But that was enough. The damage was done. 

“I’ll do it,” she whispered. 

“Tell us what you need,” the woman demanded. 

Simmons looked up at her and the others, and told them the chemicals and supplies that she would need. The woman nodded and stepped back from Fitz. As a few went to get the supplies, Simmons stepped over to Fitz and kneeled down. 

“Oh, you idiot,” she sobbed. She yanked off her sweater and pressed it against Fitz’s abdomen. He let out a weak yell in protest but let it stay. 

“He deserved it,” Fitz whispered. “The sonofabitch.” 

“God, you lost a lot of -” 

“Here. Release him.” 

Simmons turned around and saw a huge pile of the supplies. Ward was breathing heavily from the pain, and she pulled on the gloves and goggles. 

“Stand back,” she warned. 

As Simmons mixed various elements and acids together, Ward’s eyes watered and he started coughing. Simmons ignored him and continued the reactions. Finally, she poured a huge vial of bubbling acids over the plastic. It started steaming. 

“That won’t hurt my legs, will it?” Ward asked nervously. 

“Would you rather I leave it alone?” she hissed. He shut up. 

“What was it doing to him?” the woman asked, looking over Simmons’s shoulder. 

“Embedding barbed needles into his skin,” Simmons responded blankly. 

The woman stared her as she poured lemon juice over it. The plastic bubbled and melted to the sides of Ward, oozing to the floor. Indeed, his legs were speckled with thorns. 

“Get those out!” the woman demanded. 

“I can’t, they’re stuck, but they’ll dissolve-” 

“SIMMONS, HEADS UP!” a voice yelled. 

Simmons instinctively rolled into a ball and covered her eyes. Through her eyelids, she could still see the bright flash of light and she heard the bullets firing. When the light faded, she looked up to see Daisy and May standing there, wielding night-night guns. Everyone else was asleep. 

“Oh thank god,” she sobbed, jumping up and running to Fitz. “Don’t go any farther down the hallway, they’re all booby trapped. Oh thank you for coming back for us,” she whispered to them. 

“Of course, come on, let’s get out of here,” Daisy said, securly tying her jacket around Fitz’s abdomen. 

 

And so they left, Daisy carrying Fitz, Simmons releasing a few more science bombs, and May bringing up the rear. On the ship, on their way back, Simmons tenderly washed Fitz’s abdomen. With a damp cloth, she wiped away the blood to reaveal the words, written in blocky letters, PROPT HYDRA.  

I’ll kill them all , she thought. 

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