I do not claim to have any affiliation with Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. or Marvel. Title taken from Taylor Swift's "Out of the Woods."

So many FitzSkye feelings! This is just a short one shot that takes place after "Aftershocks." Cross-posted on AO3 under the same username.


There was a soft rapping at the door, immediately followed by Skye bashfully poking her head in through the door, a sad smile plastered on her face. Fitz turned off the screen of his tablet and tossed it to the side. There wasn't very much concentration to break. It'd been another whirlwind of a day. Fitz was beginning to wonder why he wasn't used to them already.

He looked at her expectantly; surely, she'd wandered into his room for a reason, but she stood before him silently, hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans.

"Is everything alright?" he finally asked after a moment.

She shrugged and took the empty space next to him at the foot of his bed. "I just wanted to say thanks again," she spoke, searching his face. "See how you were doing."

"How I'm doing?" he asked.

"What you said earlier… I just realized it's been awhile since I asked how you were doing."

"Oh, well… It's been getting better. Still a bit of a challenge at times, but..." he replied, holding out his hands in front of them. "Much less so than before."

"That's good," Skye said, smiling. "But that's not what I meant. How are you, Fitz?"

He didn't necessarily know how to answer her question. In fact, he wasn't even sure if he had an answer. He wasn't okay, not really, and he hadn't been in a long time. But in some sense, on some level, he was fine.

Even when his brain was working just fine, he wouldn't be able to articulate any of it in a way that would make sense. Of course, then he'd had Jemma, and he wouldn't have had to.

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Skye said, breaking the silence. "But if you ever do, you know where to find me."

He nodded and smiled appreciatively, again left with an uncertainty of what he should say.

They sat in silence again, longer this time. Fitz stared at the knuckles of his hands, clenching and unclenching his fists, and wondered briefly where he would be if he had never encountered S.H.I.E.L.D. He'd be safer, surely. Maybe even happy. But even as he longed for another life, he couldn't ignore the thought that he always feel like something was missing, that he would probably be plagued with a lack of purpose or meaning.

He wasn't sure if that would be such a bad thing.

Often, he found himself wishing he had Skye's certainty about S.H.I.E.L.D. She was so willing to accept this as her life, and she'd come from such a place of mistrust and anger towards it at the beginning.

"Fitz? Can I ask you something?" Skye asked, her voice soft, almost childlike.

He nodded and leaned back to rest his head on the wall behind his bed.

"Please don't feel bad. I'm not accusing you of anything."

Already, he wasn't sure he liked the sound of his.

"But… what if they're right? What if I am a threat? I… You saw what I can do. I have no control over it," she whispered, her brown eyes wide and searching. "You might be endangering the entire world by helping me."

Fitz shook his head, covering his mouth with his hand. "No," he mumbled. "No. I don't need this from you, Skye."

"Fitz-"

"Skye, listen to me. Nobody does," he said, immediately hating himself for it. He wasn't trying to earn her sympathy. That was the last thing he wanted, and something far from what he deserved. "This happened for a reason. I'm not sure what that is, but I refuse to believe that Trip died for that. For you to be some kind of monster."

"But what if that's true? What if I am a monster, Fitz? You're too trusting." She immediately broke their eye contact as she said it, her gaze falling to the bed. "I don't mean that. It's not a bad thing. What I mean is... Every day, it's like… Like we're playing with land mines. Eventually, something is going to blow up and… God, it might be me. Or because of me. And I don't know if I trust myself."

"Trust me, then," he said, with promise. "You can learn to control this. We can figure it out. It's not like you're alone."

She smiled, but he could tell she was trying to keep herself from crying. "Thank you," she said, almost choking, before leaning toward him and burying herself into his arms.

He twisted his body toward her and wrapped himself around her small frame again, his hand gently stroking the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair.

She looked up at him, her eyes glassy and wet, and stared at his face for a brief second before planting a soft kiss along the line of his jaw.

It was quiet in his room, and he almost felt like he could hear his own heart racing. If he tried hard enough, he was sure he could almost hear hers.

"I'm sorry," she said, resting her head on his shoulder. "I do appreciate you helping me."

"I know."

"And I trust you. I'm just terrified."

"So am I," he confessed with a small, sad laugh.

He didn't remember falling asleep; they'd stayed like that in silence together for so long. But he was awakened by the presence of the morning sun insisting its way in through his blinds, despite the fact that he had them drawn tight.

"Morning," Skye said upon noticing he'd awakened, her voice groggy with sleep. "Looks like we fell asleep." Her head was still on his shoulder, and her hand was resting gently on his chest. How long had she been up?

"Good morning," he smiled, blushing wildly. He wasn't used to waking up in bed with a girl.

She brought herself to sit up straight, pulling herself away from him, and he was suddenly made too aware of the soreness of his back from sleeping with it against the wall.

"We better get a start on the day," she said, stretching.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Lots to do."

She turned to him again before getting up to leave. "Thank you again, Fitz. Really. I feel a lot better."

"I'm glad," he said, leaving out the part that he felt a lot better too.

She gave him one last reassuring smile before disappearing out into the hall.

He was beginning, slowly, to understand that maybe acceptance was the root of Skye's certainty.

He could waste his whole life wondering how different things could be, but the reality was that this was his life, and these were the people in it. And, yes, his life could be a lot easier, but it could also be a lot worse.