001 > TEXT.

[hydraated]

[Ward's throat still feels like shit and a half, but he's managed to process the following. He's no longer in jail (that's a plus), he's got super powers (he's unsure if that's a plus or minus) but he arrived and avoided the network for a few days out of fear of breaking the damn thing. He's decided long since then that he can't let Skye intimidate him.

She's here. And she's been here for awhile. She has home team advantage.

The only problem is they have a record of him. This whole registering thing was crap - what was the point of being given a second chance if he really couldn't leave Grant Ward behind? For the first time he wants to.

So time to test the waters. He's been to the ceremony, he's been sworn in, he's had a dramatic reunion with the woman he'd thought he cared about.]

New arrival here. Roomba salesman and repairman. Anybody else get a completely shit job? I know nothing about Roomba's.

Assuming Roombas here are the vaccuum robots. Y/N?

Also feel like shooting myself in the foot here, but is there some kind of a "so now you have super abilities" support group? Any help or advice appreciated.

[Reading over it two or three times he nods, satisfied that it's not incriminating, that it's blaise enough that even if people decide to ask him questions he can think up enough to talk about without screwing up.

He'd been in worse situations.

His roommates might have noticed that his doorknob on the outside was significantly bent and someone has been closing doors in their apartment very, very quietly.]

Comments

[slightlyoffchilt]

Doctor Frederick Chilton.

[He responds, rising from his seat to meet Grant's handshake. A particularly firm handshake, more focused that what Chilton usually delivered; he took quick note of that confident stride Ward wore while he walked in. Body language that had its own dialect.]

Please, take a seat. I'm relieved you could make it down -- I can't say I'm not curious about the intrigue.

[Spy. HYDRA. Chilton understood the first's meaning, but not the acronym.]

Where to begin, Mr. Ward?

[hydraated]

Doctor. [He glances around] This is a nice office.

[Where to begin.] There seems to be a need for people to talk to others about their abilities. A support group. You seem like the sort of guy who might be able to facilitate that.

[And he could attend. And gather information. Here's hoping this guy doesn't see through his clever ruse.]

[slightlyoffchilt]

[The psychiatrist smiled, careful not to exhibit too much pleasure in Grant's comment. Chilton did agree, however, that it was indeed a nice office. Grant Ward, he concluded, had potential.]

A support group.

[A slight tilt of his head, angled a few degrees back -- it had the effect of lifting his chin, as he considered. Typically, Chilton was not the sort of psychiatrist to administer support groups; he was a case study sort of doctor. Typically. But, in all fairness, there was no group more atypical than imPorts, was there?

Perhaps Grant Ward had a point. Chilton wondered what other sharp points this man might carry.]

And why would you want that? We're all motivated by our desires, Mr. Ward. [He lowered his chin now, his eyes on his company.]

But I have no problem enabling yours, if indeed we both benefit.

[Well. It's not like Chilton was ever accused of a solid ethical foundation.]

Because, given some of the patients in our community, I would require an enforcer. Of sorts.

[hydraated]

[Play blunt. Very well. Ward's smile became serpentine and he folded his hands in his lap.

Trying to recognize the man's impressions.]

Are we talking doctor patient confidentiality?

I couldn't be speaking without it.

[Translation. You help me? I'd be more then willing to help you. There's a hint of...instability in his gaze.]

[slightlyoffchilt]

You would have to consider yourself my patient. [He posed this, delicately.] Which, given the strenuous circumstance of your initial arrival, and the onslaught of traumatic interpersonal reunion, we could accept as a verbal agreement.

[He would bend the rules for Ward, though still within Chilton's definition of which angle they ought to be bent. That gaze, and the intensity therein, the whisper of something unhinged -- that didn't escape Chilton's notice.]

I can help you, Grant.

[hydraated]

[For ready access to information? Is he willing to go that far? I'm ready for it this time. No more becoming the mask.

He'd lost enough.

Besides the guy wants something.]

...Of course doctor. I need help. [It's a case of what he says and what he means. Entirely different. of course it is.

He moves toward the chair and takes a seat. Another look around the office. All this ostentation? Is it...ego? Does this guy have ego?]

Ever hear the expression see a need fill a need?

[slightlyoffchilt]

Are we to fill each other's needs, Mr. Ward?

[Not that Chilton was averse to the bargain, quite the opposite. And as he leaned forward with a smile, with his fingers woven together and on top his paper-laden desk, he gave Grant another look-over.]

I have a few... Dangerous patients, you understand. I'm in the midst of constructing a better facility for them, but I'll need some adjustments made -- the sort that I would rather fund. Privately. [A significant glance followed.]

You have experience in security, yes?

[hydraated]

[Better the guard then the prisoner.

Better the monster then the guy locked away.

Ward smiles.] Federally trained security. I speak six languages and I'm familiar in five forms of hand to hand combat.

Some guy wanted me to put together a resume. I've gotta tell you this kind of work is a lot more of what I'm used to.

[slightlyoffchilt]

[Chilton nodded, tilting his head at a slight angle -- what guy, he wondered, was that some guy?]

It would be on-call, to begin with. A supplement -- until I can established my facility better. [He already had a place for Doctor Curt Connors, at least.]

I, ah, anticipate some trouble, with acquiring their permission in every necessary regard. [Best be painfully clear about this--] Can you hunt?

[hydraated]

[Ward - Ward laughs. Can he hunt. From seventeen until twenty four he lived on his own in the wilderness. If he didn't hunt he didn't eat.]

What kind of game are you looking for?

I mean I'd prefer having weaponry, if you just leave me with a knife I might ask you for extra cash up front.

[slightlyoffchilt]

People.

[But not like that.]

-- Not in a cannibalistic sense, mind. [Dear god, not like that. With Hannibal around, the unintended parallel shocked Chilton, and his face paled a little. A bit of an overreaction, without the context.]

I anticipate need of a bounty hunter, in addition to other security detail. Some highly aggressive individuals are unlikely to yield to treatment consensually.

[hydraated]

[Oh. He shrugs]

Sir, that's basically what I did for a living. I worked with SHIELD - a government organization that hunted down individuals with abilities.

Now that I have some of my own, makes it easier.

[slightlyoffchilt]

[Sir. He liked that. Chilton offered a wider, perhaps somewhat sharper, smile.]

Excellent, Mr. Ward. And what, if I may inquire, is it that you'd be interested in return?

[hydraated]

My services are considerable. [That smile.] sir.

[Serious face] Therefore I don't feel it's unreasonable to request this.


I want you to give it a couple of weeks and if anyone asks, tell them that I'm your patient. I'll even attend a few counseling sessions. Make it convincing.

And I think that support group's a great idea. You ought to start one. For anyone.

[slightlyoffchilt]

When would you like your first session scheduled? [A beat.] For appearances, of course.

[Chilton was lying, of course; instead of appearances, his ambition squared on this opportunity to analyze Mr. Grant Ward with a professional liberty.

[hydraated]

[For appearances.]

In a week?

[For appearances. As shaken as he is he's confident he can weather this.]

And you should subtly put out that you're looking for people.

[slightlyoffchilt]

A week works just fine. And -- I'll do my bit as you do yours.

[As much of a negotiation that's bound to occur, at least in this moment.]

[hydraated]

[He stands, easy and fluid. He resembles a cat then, the way he moves, his attitude. That smug sense of superiority.]

You'll have to keep me posted. I'm trying to change my day job and until your gig kicks in I'll be trying to keep something going as a cover.

[slightlyoffchilt]

[The flicker of a smile follows -- Grant Ward would do just fine. There was that ambition, that focus, which Chilton could work with. Especially in a system with such government regulation.]

I'll speak with the current Administrator about organizing. [Current. Administrator. He preferred to say it like that, as if hinged on the idea that one day there would would another Administrator. Preferably him.]

And I will let you know who is interested.

[hydraated]

[Oh ward catches that. He catches that very quickly. He frowns.]

You saw that network post. I'd like to avoid that in the future. In exchange ...

[He nods] Truthfully. you scratch my back doctor. And I'll scratch yours.

Because you're supposed to ... [His smile is thin] "Help" me. Because I want to get better.

[Although there's something distant in his gaze, something a little lost. Just a flicker of it before it's gone]

[slightlyoffchilt]

[Chilton observes that -- the distant look. It locked onto something transient, something nontransferable. For that moment, Grant Ward was caught in the spiderweb woven from his own mind.

And Chilton kept watch.]

Of course. [The psychiatrist responded quietly; Grant's look had com and gone quickly.] I have little doubt that your sessions with me will be quite the beneficial experience.

[But to whom?]

[hydraated]

[Exactly.]

...If you can try and avoid contacting me via the network, no details about anything you'd want me to do.

You seem like the kind of man who understands that descretion is the better part of valor. Doctor.

[slightlyoffchilt]

Valor, which pales before results.

[Chilton, needless to say, finds that agreeable enough.]

All right, Mr. Ward. Until next time.