𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍|
— S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier, The Pacific Ocean.
— January 13, 2015.

𝐖𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 the three pairs of eyes burning a hole into the back of his head; however, he kept his eyes forward. Agent Pierce hadn't looked up from his desk, nor had he lowered his hand from the bridge of his nose. Pierce took a deep breath, and then a second for good measure.

"Do you understand how many protocols you violated on a recon mission?"

"Each member of my team made it out of that base with the necessary information," Wes protested, "I'd call that a success."

"You would?" Pierce scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You would."

"If I may, sir," Agent Rhodes spoke out of turn, "we were misinformed about what all we were dealing with."

Pierce nodded his head. "I understand that you dealt with an undocumented member of the Index. That still doesn't excuse the lack of leadership and control exhibited on this mission."

Rhodes took a step back and grew quiet. Wes crossed his arms. "We did the job."

Pierce's eyes narrowed. "Yes, you did the job. But because you did a poor job, we now have to act quickly before the scepter can be relocated. Do you understand the implications of this?"

"Perhaps you shouldn't send in a team of underqualified—"

"If I recall," Pierce interrupted Wes, "you were the one that said your team was perfect. Now, because of your irresponsibility, we can't just send in any regular team to extract the scepter—"

"You're sending the Avengers?!" Agent Williams's eyes widened with excitement. He quickly cleared his throat and lowered his eyes to the ground. "Sorry, sir..."

Pierce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated that he was getting nowhere. "Just... get out of my sight."

The group exited the room without hesitance. Wes was the first to leave the room and had proceeded to try and roll himself down the hall as quickly as he could. Although he had started to adjust to the wheelchair, his maneuvers were still clumsier than he would have liked.

"Agent Davis!"

He groaned with frustration and turned around to face Rhodes who had called after him.

"A word?" she requested.

He shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't have time for that now—"

"What else are you going to do?" Williams asked, catching him off-guard.

There was a moment of silence before he finally agreed with a nod of his head and rolled himself back to meet with them. Rhodes opened the door to their right and they all entered the room. Rhodes flipped on the light switch and crossed the room to lean up against one of the desks.

"Alright, what's this about?" Wes asked, crossing his arms.

Rhodes shrugged. "I'm not the one who called the meeting."

Wes raised an eyebrow in confusion, that is until Williams cleared his throat. "I don't mean to overstep my bounds, sir—"

"Then don't, Williams," Wes interrupted and prepared to leave the room, "Either say what you brought me over here for or—"

"Agent Davis," Williams interrupted, "Shut up."

Wes closed his mouth, stunned. Williams sheepishly cleared his throat and tried to straighten even though Wes saw through his facade of courage. He smoothed out the wrinkles of his uniform and cleared his throat once more.

"I get that you're frustrated about your situation, but that doesn't give you a right to take it out on us." Williams crossed his arms. "You were given the responsibility to train this team and you've shirked that as long as you could. I'm done—"

"Then leave."

"I'm not done!" Williams snapped. "Stop talking over me! If you can't respect me as an agent then at least have the decency to respect me as a person!"

Wes was quiet for a minute. He chose his next words carefully, but they still had a sharp edge. "Respect must be earned."

Williams's face turned crimson. He paced for a minute, but it did nothing to stop the eruption. "Who's kept you alive for the past three years, Agent Davis?!"

Wes opened his mouth.

"And don't say yourself." Williams shook his head. "Against everyone's advice, I became your personal field technician, guiding you on each and every mission. You couldn't do half of the stuff you do on a mission without my help! You've been a pain in my butt since day one, but I let it go because I knew you had a dark past or whatever."

"I—"

"That's not an excuse anymore!" Williams snapped as he marched closer. "We all have issues, Wes! Now grow up and get over it!"

Realizing that he'd referred to Agent Davis by his first name, Williams paled. Wes was quiet for a moment. He looked as if he were ready to kill someone, which led Rhodes to stand up and step in front of Williams as if guarding him. Wes pursed his lips and slowly nodded his head.

"Alright..."

"Alright?" Williams slowly peered over Rhodes's shoulder.

Wes nodded his head again. "Alright. You want to learn? Fine, I'll teach you what I know, but it won't be easy. I expect you in the training room at o'four hundred, bright and early."

"Sir?" Williams raised an eyebrow, confused by the sudden change in demeanor.

"Now go to the infirmary to have your injuries looked at," Wes instructed.

"Sir?"

"Williams." Wes frowned. "Go."

"Sir, yes, sir." Williams saluted and exited the room.

Wes turned his head to face Rhodes, who looked mildly impressed. "I thought you were going to kill him on the spot."

"The thought did cross my mind," Wes admitted.

Rhodes nodded her head for a moment in silence before offering him an inquisitive look.

"What?"

"Dark past?" she raised an eyebrow, "I mean I knew you were the brooding type, but I just assumed that someone pissed in your coffee each morning or something."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well don't expect an explanation anytime soon."

"I'll just have to figure it out on my own then." She shrugged as she walked toward the door. "Also, next time you volunteer us for a mission, could you at least try and pick somewhere warm? I'm tired of this January weather."

"Like I've actually got a choice," he retorted.

"Hey, it doesn't hurt anything to ask," she shrugged but then added, "Well, maybe your over-inflated ego."

"Hey—"

She left the room before he could defend himself. He shook his head and rolled his eyes before turning himself around and wheeling out of the room. It was true that his situation wasn't ideal, but he was starting to agree that perhaps he'd been throwing himself a pity-party for a minute or two too long. He'd endangered the lives of his team, and as much as he hated to admit it that's what they were: his team.

Pierce was either trying to push him or he genuinely believed that he was capable of doing the job. Wes was determined not to be made the fool any longer though. He'd once prided himself on his record as a spy. Even though he wasn't able to step foot in the field at the moment, the team reflected all that was left of him for the time being. It was time to move on and take the job seriously. Unfortunately, that meant scrapping the one rule that he had come to live by: trust no one.