#thefitzwishlist

ii. now

Fitz doesn’t have the courage to talk to her, not to really talk. At this point, he has spent over half his life confiding in someone who’s become his partner in every sense of the word. He can hardly remember what it felt like to be so afraid.

But now he has a monstrous guilt churning his stomach and squeezing his lungs. He has whispered confessions that should have been only for her, but she was never there. At the time he had thought he was the world’s biggest coward, but now he wishes, more than anything, that he had the courage of his youth. Or perhaps it was naiveté.

One night, months into their space confinement, Jemma turns to him and smiles. It’s sad but also gentle. Jemma has always had an almost unimaginable strength, but right now she has softened all her edges, as if she realizes Fitz is just one cut away from falling apart. He has already fallen apart, over and over and over again, but he appreciates her care all the same.

“Do you remember,” she asks, sitting next to him on their bed and leaning her head against his shoulder, “the first time you really spoke to me? After all those months of ignoring me and all you said was, ‘Can you believe that work Professor Vaughn assigned?’”

Fitz laughs sharply, so unaccustomed to a feeling of mirth that he shocks himself. He clears his throat. “Well. It wasn’t a particularly scintillating assignment.”

He can feel her smile, the side of her face pressed against his shirt. “That’s the first time I thought you might not hate me.”

Fitz tenses, pulling away to look at her and immediately regretting the loss of contact. “What? I never hated you!”

She rolls her eyes in the same way she’s rolled her eyes at him for years and years and it cracks his heart a little bit more. “You were constantly trying to one-up me! And the rest of the time you wouldn’t even speak to me.”

He doesn’t know what to say, reliving their first interactions and seeing it all from her perspective. Any other time, this kind of information would have made him laugh, but now it makes him a little queasy. “No,” he finally says, “I was just shy. I could never hate you.”

“What about now?” she whispers, and he glances at her in confusion. She picks at invisible lint on her trousers. “None of this would have happened if we hadn’t gone into the field in the first place. Do you hate me for that?”

“No,” he breathes out, incredulous. “No, of course not.”

“Why not?” Jemma’s voice, like her smile, is soft and sad. He wants, more than anything, to protect her. But this is where that desire has gotten them.

“How can I answer that?” he asks. “Maybe we would have died at the Academy when Hydra took over, who knows? And anyway, it was my choice to come with you. And I couldn’t...I could never hate you.” He turns away as he says this, not brave enough to tell her the real truth, which is: I could never hate you because I’ve always loved you. I loved you until I didn’t, and I don’t know how to live with that betrayal.

She places a hand to his heart and he worries she knows what he’s thinking anyway. “Then why don’t you believe me when I say the same thing?”

He sighs, leaning his head forward and rubbing a hand across his face. “Jemma, you deserve—”

“Fitz, stop,” she cuts him off. “Don’t tell me what I deserve. I know what I deserve and I know what I want. I just...I want us to talk again. I don’t know if that’s even possible and I don’t want to push you, but I miss you. I miss you so much.”

He looks at her and wonders how his heart can expand and shatter all at once. He opens his mouth and still, he cannot speak.

Jemma runs her fingers through his overgrown curls, and instinctively he melts into her touch. “I thought you hated me,” she says. “All those months I thought you were trying to belittle my ideas and prove you were smarter than me. I thought you found me annoying. And then you joked about Professor Vaughn’s assignment and it sounds so silly now, but somehow I just knew we would be the best of friends. I was right, but I was also wrong, because you’re my best friend but you’re also so much more than that.” She presses a kiss against the throbbing of his temple, feathersoft and achingly shy. “And you always will be, Fitz. I promise.”

When she smiles at him, he sees their entire history written across her face, and it’s such a deeply tragic history. But it’s also the countless victories, the comfort, the breakthroughs, the lives they’ve saved together, the times they laughed so hard they cried, the shared holidays as if they were married at twenty, and above everything else a love he could never even have imagined at sixteen years old. A love he still can’t believe he found.

Maybe, he thinks, it’s not too late for them after all. Maybe together they really could be twice as strong. Maybe this unbearable weight that breaks him more each day would be a little bit lighter, if only he could tell her everything.

Hesitantly, he cracked one eye open, and then the other. Jemma watched closely as he took in the sight in front of him – a small cardboard box with a tiny blue ribbon tied on the top.

Fitz gave her a half chuckle. “Why’d you make me close my eyes if the surprise is wrapped?”

“Oh, shut up,” she scolded, nudging him playfully in his side. “It made it more exciting. Just sit, would you?”

“You didn’t have to do this – get me anything,” he said as he pulled out the folding chair on his left for her before sitting down in his own.

“But I wanted to. You didn’t think I’d forgotten, did you?” Pulling her knees up to her chin, she tilted her head to the side with a sweet smile.

“No, I just… I didn’t want to say anything in the small chance you did. And I didn’t want to make a fuss or anything.”

“Fitz,” she pleaded, reaching out to grasp his forearm. “You’ve been doing the opposite of making a fuss the entire time we’ve been here. You deserve something special just for you. But don’t get your hopes up. It’s nothing that spectacular.”

“I’m sure whatever it is, it’s brilliant.”

For a moment, she thought of all the things she really wanted to get him for his birthday – a new lab, a trip home. Unfortunately, given the current situation of being nowhere near Earth, none of those ideas were possible. But he didn’t seem to mind. Simply being with each other on his birthday seemed to be enough to lift his spirits. That, and something sweet wouldn’t hurt.

Running her hands through her hair, she let out a short huff. “Alright, I can’t take this anymore. Open it!”

Fitz waited a few seconds, hesitantly looking between Jemma and the small box, but then he seemed to not be able to contain his excitement either. After untying the ribbon, he placed his hands on either side of the box’s top and lifted it up slowly to peek inside. To Jemma’s delight, his eyes lit up and his lip curled into a small smile.

“Happy Birthday,” she said softly. “I know it’s not much, but I just thought…”

“Chocolate banana cream.” Carefully, he took the small pie out of the box and placed it in the middle of the table.

“I know it was sort of the last decent memory we had on Earth, and the last time we had an actual meal together, so it was unfortunate it had to be interrupted. I’m sure the diner’s pie is much better, but I tried.”

Shaking his head, he kept his beaming eyes on the pie. “No, it looks amazing.” He then looked up and tilted his head slightly in her direction. “So, this is why you were being so nice to the cook for the last few weeks. I thought you were going mad.”

“Fitz, only a fool would call what they serve us food. But I figured the supervisors were being better fed, so there were bound to be ingredients of some kind that I could make work.”

“You made this all by yourself?” he inquired as he stuck his finger in the chocolate drizzle topping and took a satisfying taste.

“It’s not the best. Couldn’t really get the crust right, but I didn’t really have much time. It was nice of the cook to let me use the kitchen in the first place.” Fitz was about to dip his finger back into the pie, this time going for the whipped topping, so Jemma frantically reached into her back pocket. “Here. This might help.”

Fitz nodded as she handed him the plastic fork, but then he scooted away from his table and started quickly walking towards the door.

“Wait, where are you going?” Jemma asked as she craned her neck to follow his movements. He didn’t reply and disappeared, but came back a short moment later carrying an additional utensil.

“We need two forks,” he explained, holding it out in front of her.

Jemma waved her hand in front of him. “No, it’s fine. It’s for you, not me.”

“Oh, stop. You went to all this trouble, so you deserve to at least have a taste.”

Looking longingly at the pie and remembering the hours she spent trying to make it as perfect as possible, she sighed reluctantly, knowing he was right. “Alright then.”

Together, they dug their forks deep into the pie and each took a large bite, their eyes widening in sync.

“Wow,” Fitz mumbled as he continued to chew.

“Oh my god. It’s so good,” Jemma agreed. “Much better than I imagined.”

“I don’t care what that diner pie would have tasted like – this is far better.”

Jemma’s smile widened as she watched him enjoy his dessert. “I’m glad you like it.”

They continued to eat in silence, Fitz too preoccupied by his pie to make much of a conversation, so Jemma had to settle with her own thoughts. And as much as she simply wanted to enjoy this moment of him appearing the happiest he’s ever been in ages, she hoped he wasn’t just playing up his emotions just to make her feel better. The last thing she wanted was for him to downplay his own recovery. But the last few weeks, he’d seemed to be progressing in a positive fashion. He was talking more, as Jemma often found him chatting with Mack in the mornings during the short breaks they were given during their shifts. And he always seemed to be in a good mood whenever they retired to their shared bunk at the end of each day.

But she also didn’t know what was going on inside his head.

She knew keeping these thoughts to herself wasn’t helping either of them, so she quietly placed her fork down and leaned in to touch Fitz’s arm. “Are you feeling better?” she asked rather hesitantly.

Fitz hummed without meeting her eyes as he continued to devour his slice of pie. “Yeah, I was bloody starving and this is probably the most edible meal I’ve had in a while.”

Jemma bit her bottom lip. “No, I mean…”

When he looked up, she could tell he understood her meaning as his face fell just slightly. “Oh,” he uttered quietly.  

Shaking her head, she pulled back her hand. “I’m sorry. It’s your birthday. We don’t have to talk about—”

“No, it’s okay.” Shrugging his shoulders, he gave her a slight smile. “It’s probably a better time than any, to be honest.”

“Okay.”

Before continuing, he scooted his chair closer to the table so he could lean closer towards her. “I am feeling better. But I won’t lie to you. I still… I still see things that I want to rip from my memory forever. I think for a moment that I’m getting better, and then the next, all I can think about is that place. And what I did.”

“What he did.”

Letting out a single huff, he looked down at his hands. “Right.”

“Fitz, it wasn’t you.”

“I know, I know. I tell myself that every day, but it doesn’t make it any easier.” He took a deep breath before meeting her eyes again. “But I think I’m finally starting to believe it.”

“That’s good,” she said encouragingly as she scooted her own chair a bit closer to his. “And it’s not supposed to be easy. What it…what happened to you was so…I–I can’t even put it into words.”

“You don’t have to.”

Leaning forward, Jemma placed her hand carefully onto his shoulder. “I’m not going to pretend to understand what you’re going through. Only you know that. But you have to know that if there’s anything you need from me, anything at all, you can tell me, okay?”

“I know. I promise.”                                                                            

“You look like you’re feeling a little better. What seems to be helping?”

“You,” he answered without hesitation. “And Mack and Daisy. Just everyone, really. They all seem to be getting on okay.”

“Yeah, I think they are.”

“And sometimes realizing that they’re okay makes it a little easier.”

She moved her hand from his shoulder to his cheek. “You’re always so hard on yourself. And I think you need to remind yourself of how far you’ve come. Remember when you couldn’t even look at me? Look where you are now.”

“Yeah, I know. I have you to thank for that.”

“It’s not just me, though. I’m proud of you – I hope you know that.”

“I do,” he said softly as he pulled her hand down from his cheek, intertwining their fingers. “And thank you. Not just for this, but for…you know. Everything.”

Giving his hand a squeeze, she shrugged. “What else was I gonna do?”

When she noticed a small glimmer in his eyes, Jemma knew he recognized the familiar words. But before she could get lost in his kind eyes, something seemed to shift behind them – like he had something important on his mind. And then he started laughing.

“What is it?” she asked, perplexed by his sudden change in mood.

Still chuckling lightly, he shook his head. “I’m just calculating how much time I have left to plan your birthday surprise.”

“Oh, really?” No longer able to stay so far away from him in her own chair, Jemma moved to climb into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Fitz welcomed her into his space earnestly and wrapped his arms around her, but managed a glance at his watch. “What is it…21 days and 2 hours now?”

“Well, technically, I was born at 5 a.m., so you have a little bit more time to work with. And it’s not much of a surprise now that I know about it.” As she nuzzled into his neck, she released a content sigh. “But you don’t have to do anything. Just you being here is enough. I mean, I’m not opposed to the idea…”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Thank you in advance.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

Leaning in at the same moment, their noses brushed gently before they captured each other’s lips in an achingly slow kiss. After a few blissful moments, Jemma pulled back, unable to stifle a chuckle herself.

“What?” Fitz asked,

“You taste like chocolate.”

“Hmm, so do you.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Jemma took a peek at the forgotten pie on the table. As she turned back to Fitz, her face softened. “Would it be absolutely horrible to have another slice?”

“Well, considering we don’t exactly have a place to store it, I reckon we should probably finish it off.”

“Fitz.”

“Wouldn’t want to waste it after all that work.”

“You’re right. But if we get sick, I’m blaming you.”

“Oh, and have to spend an entire day in bed? Sounds absolutely miserable.”

Several days later, Fitz was on a plane to Scotland. May came too, which he thought would bother him, but it turned out he didn’t mind the company.

“Too bad we couldn’t use the—the Bus,” he commented not long after takeoff. “We’d get there faster and more—erm—more com—comfor—more—” he stopped, unable to get the word out.

“Yes, the Bus would be more comfortable,” May agreed, “but we can’t use it until we figure out the cloaking.”

Fitz tapped his fingers against the armrest as his insides twisted in a guilty reminder of his failures. “I’ve almost got it. I just—I just need more—more time.” He sighed and dug around in his backpack for his headphones.

~*~*~*~

It had been decided that Mum wouldn’t meet them at the airport for safety reasons. Fitz was rather glad for that because he knew there would be no way to stop from crying as soon as he saw her, and it was less embarrassing to cry in the privacy of his childhood home. Those walls had seen plenty of tears from both of them over the years.

They took a taxi from the airport. Fitz fidgeted in his seat the entire ride, legs bouncing, fingers tapping, eyes looking out all the windows as they passed by familiar and unfamiliar landmarks. There was a Starbucks that hadn’t been there the last time Fitz had visited, and the Chinese restaurant he’d eaten many meals at was closed. His house looked the same, though, so that was a relief. The bushes and trees and flowers had grown. Fitz took a picture to send to Jemma while May got their bags.

The front door opened and his Mum ran out, straight to Fitz. They wrapped their arms around each other, clinging tight, and that’s when the tears came. “Oh, my boy,” his Mum cried, “my beautiful boy!”

“Mum.”

May had them move inside after noticing nosy Mrs. Keller peeking through the curtains from across the street. They went to the kitchen where Fitz’s Mum had tea ready for them along with a plate of Fitz’s favorite chocolate digestives.

“You must be Agent May,” Fitz’s Mum said as she poured the tea. “I’m Ellie; it’s so nice to meet you.” May gave her a small smile as she accepted the cup handed to her.

Neither Fitz nor May were feeling very talkative after their long flight, so Ellie filled the silence, talking about the lives of various friends and neighbors while Fitz ate too many of the biscuits and May listened politely, instinctively filing away any bits of useful information Ellie shared.

“Oh, how I’ve been nattering on,” Ellie said as they finished their tea. “You two must be tired after that long flight. Leopold, you’re in your old bedroom, of course, and Agent May, you’ll be in the guest room. I’ll show you where it is.”

There were pictures lining the wall of the hallway leading to the bedrooms. Most were of Fitz as a child; some were of what May assumed were other relatives such as grandparents. May stopped to look more closely at a picture of a young Fitz, probably about 5-years-old, standing in front of a monkey enclosure at a zoo. He wore a somber expression and there was a blur around his chest.

“He was so excited to see the monkeys,” Ellie commented when she saw which picture May was looking at. “I couldn’t get him to stop flapping his hands long enough for me to take a picture.”

May gave her another small smile and they continued on to the guest room.

~*~*~*~

Fitz began taking the tea things to the sink to start washing up while Mum showed May to the guest room. One of the mugs fell from his hand and shattered on the floor. Fitz froze, staring down at the evidence of his damaged, broken body. He couldn’t even do something as simple as washing up, or get his body to move and go find the broom. He just stood there. Staring. How useless was he?

Ellie entered and took in the broken mug, and how Fitz was standing there, not moving. “Did you get stuck, love?” she asked. Fitz didn’t respond. “I’m going to bring you to your bedroom, where your weighted blanket is,” Ellie told him. She took his hand and led him out of the kitchen. Fitz laid down on his bed and she covered him with his weighted blanket. “Is that better?” Fitz still didn’t respond, so she went back to the kitchen to clean up the mug.

~*~*~*~

Fitz blinked, staring up at the ceiling. He was slowly becoming aware of what was happening around him. There was pressure on top of him. That was good. He could hear someone in the kitchen. Mum, probably. He hoped. He wasn’t sure what May would think if she saw him like this. She’d seen him have a meltdown before, but he hadn’t had a shutdown in front of her that he could remember.

He focused on his breathing. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. He looked around his bedroom, eyes landing on the poster hanging on the wall across from him.  It was a picture of space. His mum had got it for his 15th birthday. I’m gonna take that back to the Playground he decided. Maybe having a bit of home there will make the change easier.

Mum entered with a glass of water, which she placed on the bedside table next to him. “I brought you water,” she said. Fitz brought his fingertips up to his chin to say thank you. Technically he was supposed to move his hand away from his chin too, but that wasn’t going to happen.

“Can I stay with you?” Mum asked.

Fitz managed a nod. She sat down on the bed next to him and began running her fingers through his hair.

“Agent Coulson came to see me,” she told him, “after your—” she paused, trying to figure out the right word, “—injury. I wanted to come see you, or have your transferred to one of the hospitals here, but he said it was too dangerous because of the Hydra threat.” She was quiet for a moment, and Fitz closed his eyes, soothed by the feeling of her hand on his head. “I’m thankful you were able to come to me.”