May knew what it was like to re-live the horrors of the past through dreams. So it shouldn't have come as a surprise to Fitz when it dawned on him, that out of everybody on the team, it was her who could tell exactly what he was seeing every time he closed his eyes. With this realisation, and for the first time since he awoke, he found himself able to verbalise his thoughts into a semi-meaningful string of words for her.
"Darkness" he mumbled. "Cold…it's…everywhere…dark."
They began his verbal therapy that week. One hour a day, he would sit in the cockpit with May, whether they were flying or not, and they would just talk. She would ask him questions, mostly meaningless and completely irrelevant, and he would try to formulate answers from the cocktail of words in his head.
She asked him about his time at the academy, how he had met Jemma, when they'd become best friends. He tried to explain what Scotland was like, and what had made him interested in engineering. She pretended not to notice him blush when he talked about how much Jemma meant to him.
May was patient when he couldn't form sentences, when his words became jumbled despite his every effort. She wiped his frustrated tears away, and waited for him to continue. Often, when he got too annoyed with himself for being unable to say what he meant, she changed tactic, and she told him about her life in S.H.I.E.L.D instead.
He'd never heard her speak so much.
Slowly, he learnt about her life; snippets of the person she once was shining through the façade of strength she always wore. He found out about how she grew up as an only child, just her and her mother. He listened to stories of how she was notorious for causing chaos with her pranks at the academy, and he realised it was her who put the shaving foam on him whilst he slept, only a few months before. He noted the slight change in tone when she talked about coming back to the field solely to protect Coulson, and he smiled internally.
She apologised for shooting an ICEr at him when he found her phone-line.
She thanked him for saving her life during the HYDRA threat.
He knew he could trust her.
And she never gave up on him.
Fitz was sat alone in the lounge area one evening. He'd spent the afternoon in physiotherapy with Trip, and was waiting for Jemma to come and join him so they could watch the latest Doctor Who episode Skye had managed to download. Probably illegally. But even so.
He watched as May wandered from the kitchen with two bottles of beer, and took both to Coulson's office in silence, closing the door behind her. Something about her casual demeanour, and the slight smile she wore as she went, told Fitz that she wasn't going in there for a meeting.
But if she knew he was watching her, she didn't question him.
"Tired…getting…now" Fitz mumbled with a yawn, looking up at May. They'd been talking well into the night, one of the rare occasions their sessions lasted more than an hour.
"Sorry, I lost track of what time it was." She rubbed the back of her neck as she spoke, and he realised that she was clearly as exhausted as he was. In doing so however, she inadvertently lifted her hair, and he caught sight of patches of light purplish bruising down the side of her neck. He frowned.
"Hurt" he said, indicating the marks.
"It's nothing" she replied, not meeting his eyes, and letting her hair drop back down to cover them. "Do you want to finish up for tonight?"
If he didn't know any better, he would have said Agent May was blushing slightly, but he wasn't one to pry, so he simply nodded, and let her change the subject.
He knew exactly what those bruises looked like though.
He watched as May made herself a mug of green tea, wondering what it was that seemed out of place. Sure, it was 6am and he wasn't used to being up this early – but nightmares about enclosed metal boxes filling with water were haunting him. She had her hair tied back (her bruises seemed to have gone now), no make-up on, and was wearing just casual sleepwear. She had a grey baggy tee-shirt on over her leggings, and it was that which he kept focusing on. Something about it wasn't quite right, like it didn't fit her properly, but his brain wouldn't tell him why.
"Would you like one?" she asked quietly, mistaking his curiosity for something else and indicating towards the tea.
"Thank…no…you" he mumbled, looking away from her, annoyed that even simple sentences still wouldn't come out right. She smiled anyway and nodded, turning back to continue her drink.
"I know it's hard" she said after a while. "But try not to get frustrated." She glanced over to him, and held his gaze. "You've come so far in such a short period of time, you know what you want to say, and the words are coming out right."
"Wrong order" he muttered.
"Doesn't matter" she smiled a little, and it reached her eyes. "Believe me when I tell you this, you're doing amazing."
She left him alone after a few minutes, and he watched her go. She was right about his progress; only a few months before and he hadn't been able to get even a single word to come out correct. He wasn't sure why, but it was talking to May that seemed to help his speech most, despite having previously never being that close to her. She understood what it was like to go through trauma.
Jemma was still his best friend, and despite their visit to the depths of the ocean, and the confessions their near death had brought, they were still just as close as before. She knew how he felt about her, and he cared about her enough to accept that maybe she wanted them to just remain as friends. Skye was always there for him, ready to throw a movie on or show him her latest coding to hack into Koenig's security system or make him popcorn with chocolate poured over it. Trip was doing physio with him to help get him back to strength after so long unable to walk, and despite his initial reservations, the two were now firm friends. Coulson promised any help he could offer, despite his new role as director, and Fitz appreciated it more than he could say. But it was May who knew what he was feeling, and who was helping him find his voice again; he'd never been more thankful for her being there.
Before long he returned to his book, the thoughts about her mismatched clothing leaving him for a while.
It was only later that morning when he saw Coulson that he understood what his brain had been trying to tell him previously. Coulson was wearing a grey faded tee-shirt – the exact same one as May. Fitz could think of only one reason they would be sharing clothes at night, but he wasn't going to ask.
The little things all began clicking into place.
He found out officially the hard way. He spent the afternoon checking over the CCTV from the base, out of boredom more than anything. He'd fast-forwarded through the footage until out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement on the screen. Two individuals in the hangar, near the BUS.
As he moved it back to normal speed, and watched closer, he realised it was May and Coulson. Despite his previous suspicious, he was slightly shocked when he saw the footage of May leaning up to kiss Coulson. All his thoughts were confirmed when Coulson kissed her back.
He turned off the screen as he re-assembled his thoughts.
Based on the lack of Skye gossiping about it, he was pretty sure nobody else knew.
And it wasn't his news to tell.
Suddenly, he began to see everything more clearly. He could see their interactions for what they were. He saw how Coulson would gently brush his fingers across her lower back when they were stood next to each other. He heard how May would laugh when the two were alone together, either in his office or in the cockpit. He could sense the extra anxiety they both seemed to feel when one was off on a mission.
Fitz watched as they exchanged glances, and shared smiles, and stole kisses when they thought nobody could see them.
She continued to help him with his speech. And he continued to keep her secret.
But as the weeks went by, it was getting harder not to say anything.
"May" Fitz said quietly, one afternoon when it was just the two of them in the cockpit.
Coulson had come in briefly to ask something, and Fitz had once again watched as they communicated through just a few glances. Despite the lack of words, he'd felt like he should look away as they'd held each other's gaze. Once Coulson left, Fitz couldn't stop himself from telling her.
"Mmm?" she asked, turning slightly to look at him.
"Happy for you" he said carefully, nodding towards where Coulson had just left, and then looking back at her pointedly. He hoped she understood what he meant without having to say it. Despite being able to partly form sentences again, he didn't really want to explain how many different ways he'd worked out that they were together.
If she was shocked that he knew, she hid it well.
"Thank you" she replied simply, a small smile dancing on her lips as she turned back to the window.
"Won't tell" he added after a few moments.
"It's not really secret."
"Good…you're both rubbish at hiding it" he added slowly.
She laughed, properly laughed, and he smiled, realising it was the first time he'd seen her do so himself.
He also realised he'd just strung together a full sentence that made sense.
Fitz was an engineer; he'd spent his life fixing things. And despite how broken S.H.I.E.L.D was, and how broken he was, he knew that nothing was ever so broken that it couldn't be fixed.
They wouldn't be and couldn't be the same as before, but things would be okay. And maybe not everything would be fixed right now, or even in the near future, but this was a good place to start.
(First time I've tried writing from Fitz's view. Please review and let me know what you think!
I don't own AoS, I just like playing around with the characters.)