Fitz couldn’t even look at Skye. He kept his gaze down at the blankets, picking at the edge of it. He swallowed hard, shooting a look at his friend when she sat next to him. “Oh… ehm… sorry,” he mumbled an apology for the ICER, reaching over to set it carefully back on his nightstand. He looked at her again. She was definitely not responding too great the whole… everything that had happened the past few days. Why would she? He scooted just a little closer to her. “Yeah. Reminiscing.” Fitz bit down on his lip. “I’ve just been sleeping. I thought I’d have nightmares, but, ehm, I guess not, so it’s… easier than being awake. This is worse than nightmares.”
She followed Fitz’s movements with her eyes, letting a corner of her mouth tug upwards slightly when he inched closer. “If there’s anything I know about trauma, it’s that you want to be in denial as long as you can. Keep yourself distracted. Go yell at cars on a highway, but be responsible about it. Or – ” Skye nodded at the stack of DVDs she’d brought with her that had somehow made their way on top of the cabinet next to the door. Either she forgot dropping them there once she’d witnessed Fitz’s emotional state or she was straight up losing her mind. Likely both. “We could do that.”
Fitz relaxed a little when he heard Skye’s voice on the other side of the door. Okay. Of course it was just Skye. Why would a murderer go after Fitz next? That’d be stupid. He bit his lip and hesitated for a couple of seconds before unlocking the door with his free hand, opening it slowly and peeking out just to make sure, just in case… who knows. It was hard to trust anyone right now, he had to make sure there wasn’t anyone else for whatever reason. Relieved to see she was alone, Fitz opened the door wider and stepped back, his other hand still tightly clutching the ICER.
“Hey Skye,” he said softly, closing and locking the door after she walked in, then going back to his bed. He wrapped his blanket tighter around himself and grabbed his pillow to hug onto. “What do you need?”
Skye hesitated at the doorstep for a couple of moments, looking him over to determine how to proceed. The psychoanalysis proved to be fruitless, mostly because he needed a friend, not a shrink, and she leisurely made her way towards to where Fitz sitting to claim a spot next to him. “To see you? Preferably without getting shot?” she joked, though it didn’t translate to her eyes. Or her expression. Skye looked down at her hands then, “I’ve been hiding out on the Bus, reminiscing, all that. I don’t really want to see anyone else right now.”
“Aw, Skye, don’t call him my boy toy,” Fitz replied, scrunching up his face. “I think he’d said he’d be joining me later.” He shrugged. “It’s fine. I don’t need someone else to have fun.” Even if he’d literally just been standing there holding his still-filled cup like it was just something to be held and not drank.
“Now, that’s a lie. You need me.” She draped an arm around Fitz’s shoulders, subtly nudging him towards the direction of the bar. “And something stronger than Kool Aid. Call your comms companion - sorry, commspanion - and tell him I’m not letting him have you tonight. You snooze it, you lose it.”
“Why would they murder you for the Cha Cha Slide? It’s a good song. Catchy.” Fitz smiled at Skye. “Are you having fun? Have much to drink yet?”
“That’s classified,” she grinned back at him. “The answer to one of those directly depends on where your boy toy is. I figured he wouldn’t pass up the chance to sip martini and complain. Even dedicated a song to him.”
Fitz smiled a little more, pressing against her side. He was really, really glad he had Skye to count on. They hadn’t known each other for as long as he’d known Simmons, but she was still great to talk to especially when he couldn’t go to Jemma. “Thanks,” he said again after a long moment, and then moved his head a little to look at her. “They’re aliens, Skye, and they have a name y’know, if you’d been paying attention, you’d remember they’re the Sisters of Plenitude, and the patch of skin is Cassandra, and admittedly the episode is a little weird, but it’s not as simple as what you just said–there’s more than just that, you didn’t even talk about the infected humans that are hidden in the hospital…” He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine then, next time we can watch Paranormal Activity.”
Skye let a small thinking noise emit, eyes glued to the screen in an attempt to understand as she absentmindedly traced patterns on his arm. “Yeah, of course I’m gonna watch a movie about ghosts with a scientist, and maybe I’ll even have time to attend a lecture on evolution with a devoted christian,” she muttered after some time, “How can you offer to watch horror movies like it’s nothing? I’ve seen you lose your shit over a broom you set up yourself. For a prank.”
Fitz sniffed a little, listening to Skye. What she said made sense, but Fitz still couldn’t help but feel terrible about it all. If he wasn’t so… confused, nobody would have to feel bad about anything, and there wouldn’t be this whole mess. “I… I don’t know. I guess you’re right. But I’m… I guess I’m also more worried about all the pain I’ve caused them both because of… everything. It’s not fair to them.” He scooted a little closer before resting his head on Skye’s shoulder, letting out a somewhat defeated sigh. He was tired of crying; his emotions were worn down. “Thanks, Skye. I’m… sorry that I have to bother you with all this.”
“They’ll live. This is the stuff that comes with caring, so at least they’re not going through it for someone that’s not worth it,” Skye said, certain resolution in her voice. She rested her cheek on Fitz’s head, sinking into him with a small sigh and a smile to accompany it. “Do it more often. I’ve never had anything like this, and you know I’d do anything to keep you relatively sane. Even if it means watching a show in which a sentient patch of skin possesses an alien time traveller in a hospital run by cat humans. Human cats? I don’t fucking know.”
Fitz shook his head and then sat down on the bed again after a couple of moments. He buried his face in his hands. “No… I don’t… I don’t think so. I don’t know. I don’t remember. I-I’d just been… trying not to think about it a-and… I… he seemed upset in the morning, and then… today I lied to Jemma about last night and now I don’t think she wants to be even my friend anymore and I just…” He paused and bit his lip. “I keep fucking everything up, Skye.”
“Take it from an expert on fucking things up, it’s not until I say it is. Jonathan, he,” Skye paused momentarily, mouth forming a thin line to express how much she wasn’t a fan of what she was about to say, “cares about you. Yeah, it’ll take a team of scientists to figure out what the fuck shifted back into it’s place in his temporal lobe for him to feel genuine human emotion all of a sudden, and, yeah, it might take a while, but he does. Jemma? It’s not my place to say, but Jemma loves you. In whichever way you’d possibly want her to love you. So really, everything that’s happening now is happening because two people care about you too much, and, if you ask me, it isn’t necessarily a bad thing. When someone cares about you this much, they’ll forgive you.”
Fitz took a deep breath, wringing his hands. He knew he was probably overreacting, especially since all Skye was doing was showing him a silly video of the guy Fitz liked, but–he just couldn’t–he’d been putting off actually freaking out and just seeing Jonathan on the screen just… ugh. He nodded at Skye’s question, pacing for a few seconds more before walking over to her. “I don’t–I didn’t remember, anything, but I–we–” He took a deep breath and unbuttoned the first buttons on his shirt, loosening his tie and pulling his collar down to show her the hickeys. “That’s not–not all that we… Skye, we…”
She softly traced the hickeys with her fingers, retracting her hand with a nod. This place had singlehandedly taken away her ability to be be bothered by anything. It’s as if she was rapidly approaching the middle-aged parent territory. Not surprised, just disappointed. “Yeah, I’m familiar with what comes after those. My question is, why did you just have a meltdown over a bare torso? Did he hurt you?”
Fitz furrowed his eyebrows and leaned in to keep watching, watching as… okay. Jonathan was starting to–to strip for the camera, doing some movements that were probably supposed to be funny or attractive or something, but it was making a lump form in Fitz’s throat. He couldn’t make it very far in before he just slammed his hand on the mouse to exit the file. He got up off the bed and started pacing. “I–I can’t–I…” He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut and pulling up his collar just to make sure his hickeys were hidden. “I can’t… I can’t watch that.”
The previously amused expression fell off Skye’s face at the first signs of Fitz’s reaction. She followed him with her eyes, silently observing for a few moments to collect her thoughts on the entire situation. He didn’t provide her with the explanation she was expecting, however, and if there’s anything she knew about him, it’s that it was eating him alive. If there’s anything he knew about her, it’s that she’d want an explanation. “Did anything else happen?” Skye asked forthright, no implications or humorous undertone in her voice.
