Spoilers from Season 4 Episode 17. Agents of SHIELD is not mine.
Fitz as he encounters Radcliffe, Agnes and Jemma:
"This man is from the other side. He's the one who enslaved me," Ophelia states firmly, eyes gliding over to watch for Fitz' reaction. Fitz is overcome with emotion with the words, as they catapult him into a turmoil of thoughts.
It was almost too much for a single day. Earlier, he had finally received some answers about the secrets that were being kept from him. He was a patient man, could endure the screams of the Inhuman potentials who were exposed to the cure and endless tests. He could endure hours of frustration and the feelings of failing yet again, so long as it was for her. It was an unending process that was difficult to stomach and the first time that he had been exposed to their screams he had hesitated. He had questioned, once again, if the path that he took was the right one. If his actions were the right ones.
Then he thought of her. Ophelia, Madame Hydra, and a bubble of affection, crazy bursting love poured through unexpectedly. He couldn't explain the depths of his emotion, how deep they ran or how they moved him, pushed him through his doubts and left him with the certainty that he wasn't mistaken. It was uncontrollable, powerful, unbelievable. So he pushed forward with his research, with his tests until he had earned himself the title of 'The Doctor'. The sadist who was heartless and relentless in his work with Hydra. He was proud that he could serve her in ways that no one else could.
If only she would open up to him, there was nothing he wouldn't do for her, no line he wouldn't cross, no idea he wouldn't explore. He had finally confronted her about the hidden subversive who she had been hiding from him. He had been angry, driven by the itch of devastating frustration and guilt at the thought of being useless to her that he pushed her for answers. The response was completely unexpected.
She had been a slave.
There were no words for the shock that filled him in the moment, the regret of pushing for an answer that was so horrifying to consider. Madame Hydra, a slave. There was torment, filled with self-reprimanding loathing at himself for pushing for an answer. A deep resolve settled within him, firm and unyielding: he would jump at the chance to get his hands on the ones responsible. The exquisite screams he would tear from their throats as they begged for mercy. He could contemplate the high pitched wails of pain that they would give, until their throat bled and no more sound could be drawn forth. Driving them over the edge until they couldn't sustain their sanity and paid for harming the woman he loved.
If only he could get his hands on them, he had believed in the back of his mind as he focused on the missions given to him by Madame.
There's a deep bubbling rage that rises within him at the words. He hadn't expected this so soon and his frosty glare focuses on the man that stands before them.
He quickly examines the man, Radcliffe, and seethes at how disgustingly relaxed he appears. He is dressed in comfort, living on an island, unashamedly unscathed and uncaring of the damage that he has inflicted.
Radcliffe tries to protest the accusation, while Ophelia confesses the truth of how she was used. Kept as property. The words slide in his head, rattle around in his brain with all its sickening implications. Kept. As. Property. His hands tremble with the urge to do something, to act.
His gaze doesn't lift from the man. There is a cold haze that has filled Fitz with the need to damage this man, to savagely rip into him and tear him to shreds and leave him to rot while studying how long the man survives. To demonstrate his usefulness and rid the world of this inhuman filth and to satisfy Ophelia. His desires are violent and he seethes with the need to carry out his fantasies.
Lies spill forth from Radcliffe's lips, claiming that Ophelia is the one who is lying, that the woman with him is no threat, beseeching Fitz to believe his truth.
Fitz' mind cannot comprehend the appalling lack of shame or dignity of sense of preservation of this man. To ask Fitz of all people to believe. There is only one person that Fitz is wholeheartedly devoted to, who has captured his belief and his faith. The audacity of the man further cements his plans of taking his time carving out justice.
Without saying a word, he turns to guard and reaches for a gun. The familiar weight slides into his hand, cold, and ready to fulfill its purpose. He cocks it and he points it at the woman who he discovered on the island. Fitz is sure that she means something to this man and it is an excellent place to start. The things that he can do… But first he must ascertain her value to this man.
The woman gives a small exclamation of shock and fear of having the gun aimed so closely to her chest but Fitz' eyes are solely for the man.
"Then convince me," he asks, his eyes staring unflinchingly forwards. He knows that there is nothing in the world that will convince him otherwise and the game has already started. What matters here are the lies that will come, that will determine the pain that the man will endure in the future.
What will he try to say, what words will try to exonerate him of his guilt, Fitz wonders coldly. Of course, there are no words. There are also other questions that Fitz wants answers to. The way that the man looks at him, with familiarity, with the expectation that he will be warmly received with understanding. This and so many other questions hover within his mind. This man clearly does not know who Fitz is. No man who has heard of his reputation would expect any mercy from Leopold Fitz.
The man asks for Fitz to put down the weapon, gives up the fact that the subversives are on the island and offers to lead the way to them. There was never any doubt that they were here but Fitz is filled with even more disdain at how quickly he has turned on the people he was protecting. It becomes clear that this woman is more important for him, and Fitz catalogues the notion away for future exploitation.
"Tell me the truth," Fitz pressures. "You act like you know me. Why?"
There is an immediate change in Madame Hydra as her look of pleasure shifts into something more nervous as she shifts slightly. She orders that the soldiers can find the subversives but her disquieting unease over the situation push Fitz further into his certainty that he needs to get answers.
Radcliffe claims to care for him, "you were like a son to me," filled with other bullshit of having spent time with Fitz in a lab, bonding over pints and football.
"That's absurd," Fitz states, his expression hard. This man wasn't anything to Fitz, there was nothing that he could remember that tied them together. Did he think that making up stories was going to spare him? Fitz began to contemplate all the ways that he could break the belief that Radcliffe had in him, to make him truly understand the rage and disgust and abhorrence that Fitz held towards him.
While claiming even more familiarity, a line of information slips out. "You even helped me build AIDA." Fitz stores this away as he questions who or what AIDA is and why it triggered the immediate reaction from Ophelia.
"ENOUGH." Madame Hydra orders, "We're done here." Normally this would be the point where Fitz would obey his orders. He wouldn't question any further and comply with her demands.
But there is a feeling he has that this is important, that he needs these answers in order to ensure his future with Ophelia. He also wants to know how much further the man will go in trying to worm his way out of his fate.
"Then why don't I remember you?" Fitz asks, not sure of the answer that the other man will come up with. There has already been so much today, that he will have to think over later when he has the time.
"Because it all happened in the other world." Radcliffe quickly returned.
Madame is quick to rationalize that it was a different version of Fitz. The idea trips him up and Fitz is pulled from his daydreams of cutting down the man before him. Madame came from the other world, where a version of him existed. How was it possible then, that SHIELD won, that Ophelia was converted into a slave? Was he not good enough there? Did he not love her enough?
Fitz marvels at the frightening possibility that there was a version of him that didn't do anything. Why? Where was he? What was he thinking, involved in, so wrapped up around that he couldn't ensure the present that he was living here in this world. That he couldn't ensure the safety of his beloved?
The concept of failure is daunting and Fitz is plagued with his feelings of not being good enough in the other world. But in this world, he has reaped more success and he is determined that he will do everything within his power to achieve their happiness. His eyes finally drop their piercing gaze and he isn't sure why his thoughts immediately jump to Jemma Simmons.
There is a connection there but he doesn't have enough data to connect anything together firmly. He is still lacking in so much information and he can't figure out why he is always so slow. First there was the issue of a mole within HYDRA that was leaking information. He had several suspects in mind which he had shared with May, including Sky and her unusual reaction to seeing him. She had acted unpredictably familiar with him earlier, irritating him with her petty arguments and her nerve to speak so out of turn. Then, Madame Hydra had been extremely careful with bringing Jemma Simmons up, always cautious to put away her photo or even let Fitz think about her in any way. Jemma Simmons had appeared as a subversive the same day that Sky began acting weird and the existence of a mole within HYDRA was revealed. It was all relevant in some way.
"And the woman? Jemma Simmons," Fitz questions before he has a chance to further think about it. The question slips through his teeth before he can contemplate the ramifications of it or why he would need to think about her. This is alarming to Fitz as he is unable to explain why it was a pertinent question to raise in front of Madame.
"Simmons," the man sighs her name and is quick with his answer, "you two were in love. Unbreakable. Force to be reckoned with. The Fitz I knew nearly drowned for Jemma. He crossed the bloody universe to rescue her!" He exclaims. The words are unsettling with their ridiculousness and he must clench his teeth in anger to hold himself back from unleashing the fury that raves within him. He is nearing his limit, his patience is drawing to a close and he is holding on to his rationality with the tips of his fingers. His eyes are drawn back to Ophelia for the first time since this conversation began.
Fitz is incredulous to see the nervous apprehension in her eyes peering back at him, pleading with him to stand by her. How can she ever doubt the love that he has for her?
"You see what we're up against? They mean to destroy us." She argues before she is rudely interrupted.
"She lies because I'm right," Radcliffe jumps in, perhaps believing that he has managed to change Fitz' perspective and eager to exploit the opportunity.
"I love you. They're trying to take you away from me," Ophelia continues fiercely, her eyes desperate.
It is too much for Fitz and he can't keep his expression on her any longer. The fact that she thinks that she has to confirm her love for him, argue and persuade him to believe her is too much to handle. The steady control that Fitz has exerted over himself is gone and he knows that the man's pain begins today.
"The world has changed. But you're not this man! You're one of the good guys, you help people! Look inside. This isn't you." Fitz' gaze has hardened once more and he contemplates his response. How to get the best reaction, to demonstrate his loyalty and prove the love that he has for Ophelia.
He had originally planned to bring the other woman back with him for questioning. To use her and the man to play off each other's pain to receive answers. But it is too late for that.
He is going to kill her now, in front of this man. He will revel in watching her last breaths before the man who cares for her and ensure that his feelings are properly transmitted. He will never betray Madame Hydra, he is loyal to the cause, to her. He has so much blood on his hands and this death will be just another body that he offers up in service.
"You say that I'm not myself, that I don't know who I am," he starts. He is the Doctor, he is Leopold Fitz, he is the man who would cross the universe for Madame Hydra and would burn the world at her request. And this man will learn.
"But you're wrong. I know exactly who I am." Fitz continues, his eyes taking in every detail of the man's pleading expression.
He pulls the trigger without breaking a sweat, without flinching and without moving his eyes from the Radcliffe's face as the woman falls. He wants to capture every second.
There is nothing that will tear him away from beholding the man's expressions of horror and despair.
Until he hears a cry coming from far behind him.
"Fitz, NO!" It is a cry of anguish.
He is startled and his turns instinctively towards her and the sound of her voice. It is so achingly familiar that there is no hesitation, no reason to not turn and look and he somehow knows that this is more important than Radcliffe. It's sorrow is all the more reason to find her quickly, though how he knows this he doesn't understand.
It is the subversive, Jemma Simmons crying out for him with tears in her eyes. Bullets start flying and although Ophelia is leaving with the man, he can only stand and take in her desolate expression.
He can't look away.
She's breathtakingly beautiful.
She is the only thing that Fitz focuses on in the midst of the growing battlefield.
It's not until the men before him are shot that he regains his presence of mind and moves to leave with Madame, burdened with more questions turning over in his head.