"You don't have to come with us," Phil says for the third time.
"You going to have Leo help you button up your suit?" Anna challenges. "Because you can manage your new look—which I approve highly of, by the way—with your one hand, but we both know why you haven't worn a tie." The fingers of his good hand twitch at her words. "I could pre-tie it for you, if you don't want to ask Leo for help."
She's made the offer every morning since he was cleared for work. He can button shirts for the most part—takes ten times longer but he can still do it—as well as zipping up zippers. But tying a tie one-handed knot is a bitch and he still hasn't quite mastered it well enough. Thankfully, Anna can tie any number of knots in her sleep. Every morning, she makes the same offer to help him dress, yet every morning he says no. But this isn't a typical morning. "You'll ruin the silk," he says. "No pre-tying."
"Then I guess I'm going with you."
"Anna—"
"You're not going to a combat zone," she tells him. "You're going to England to have an impossibly difficult conversation. Let me help you."
He can count the number of times on one hand—no pun intended —that someone has made such a heartfelt effort to help him in the last three months. May is still in the wind and who knows if and when she'll be back. Sk—Daisy is busy running around handling the Inhuman debacle. And as much as Phil would love to say she needs his help and he can once again be her mentor, she's grown into her own and is handling things quite well by herself. Bobbi and Hunter are trying to keep it a secret that they want to go after Ward, but Phil knows that burning need too well not to recognize it in others. Mack has stepped up as the calming figure for everyone, a broad-shouldered camp counselor who is keeping everyone as even keel as possible. Including his boyfriend.
Aforementioned boyfriend, though.
Phil fights off a sigh. He wasn't lying when he told Fitz how much he respects him for not giving up on Jemma. He's almost jealous that he hasn't maintained the same tenacity for truth that the young man has fostered. But despite that, they have to move on. They absolutely need it. Jemma would want them to keep going, keep fighting. Or at least, Phil hopes she would. He certainly needs Fitz's focus to be returned to team activities. Hell is about to reign down on the planet if they don't stop the spread of the terrigen crystals' effects. Plus, and this will sound so very trite compared to the state of the world, Phil needs a good hand. Fitz has tried several models up to this point, but none of them are quite right. He can't help but wonder if thoughts about Jemma were distracting Fitz enough to cause design flaws because his new plane is amazing, but his mechanical fingers, not as much.
"Well?" Anna asks from her seat on the bed.
"You stay on the plane," Phil says. He makes sure his voice isn't harsh enough for it to sound like an order, but for the sake of what little remains of his sanity at the moment, he needs her safe.
"Fine," she agrees. "I'm going more for you than her parents."
The corner of his mouth quirks up on in a smile, and he leans down to kiss her on the forehead. "How long will it take you to pack?" With a smug smile, she pulls out a full overnight bag from under the bed.
Twenty minutes later, they board the Quinjet requisitioned for the trip. Their pilot—an agent Dylan who recently came out of hiding in Africa to join the team at their headquarters—picks up on the fact that his passengers don't want to be disturbed, and he stays in the cockpit.
Mack is apparently mirroring Anna in a forced form of moral support. He catches up on reports on the way over, but Phil catches the man casting glances at Fitz every now and then. Fitz himself stares at his hands. His knuckles are still bloody from last night's rampaging against the rock. Phil watched the video again the morning. While he was proud of the progress Fitz has made in becoming proficient with firearms and his growing confidence in tense situations, it broke his heart to watch the man beat against the rock and shout at it to do something.
And once again, Phil is jealous that the scientist had the guts to do something Phil only imagined doing.
He hears Anna rustling through her overnight bag before she pulls out the satchel that contains her makeup. She undoes her harness and crosses the aisle to take the jump seat next to Fitz. She most have noticed his handless arm reaching out to stop her from moving around in flight—even though it was absolutely safe to do so—because she shot him an annoyed look before turning to Fitz.
"I can cover that up if you want," Anna offers as she begins to rummage around for concealer. "Wouldn't want to alarm Jemma's parents by seeing your hands all cut up, right?"
"You know how to do that?" he asks quietly, his right foot continuously bouncing up and down.
Anna nods. "Grew up around a bunch of Army officers, then married one. They'd get into scuffles—some sanctioned, some them being idiots—and then have to show up in dress uniform six hours later. They looked pristine," she tells him as she starts dabbing the makeup on his knuckles with a sponge. "But if you stick your hands in your pockets or rub at them, it's going to come off. And makeup is a bitch is get off of clothes."
"Thank you," Fitz says.
She gives him a soft smile before kissing his cheek. "Thank you, Leo, for fighting as hard as you did for her."