I decided to write this based on my own experience, as I have a tremor also. It can be one of the most frustrating things in the world. If I'm extra tired- or a multiple of other stressors- my hands shake more than normal, and it makes delicate tasks hard. Especially writing. It's super annoying when I try to write, but my hands are shaking and I can't form the letters properly.

I hope I captured the frustration properly, and did Fitz and all the others suffering from brain damage justice.

As per usual, I don't own Agents of Shield or anything else Marvel.

Fitz threw down the circuit board he had previously been tinkering with. "Bloody piece of crap!" Each word was punctuated with a crash as he tossed his tools across the workbench. "God dammit!"

"Hey, Turbo, calm down, man." Mack crossed the room to where Fitz was standing angrily. "What did this thing ever do to you?" He picked up the discarded piece of technology and examined it, one eyebrow raised in confusion.

"I'm trying to fix the… the… the overlay, but my hands are… my hands, they… they…" Fitz growled in frustration. "Damn it!"

"Woah there, seriously, Fitz, chill." Ever since Simmons had left, Fitz had been increasingly touchy, and was often upset by his decrease in ability to do tasks he used to do with ease. "You just gotta calm down and come back to it later." Mack ignored the look Fitz gave him. "It's not gonna work if you get yourself all worked up like this."

There was a moment of silence. "Shaking," Fitz said finally. He took a deep breath. "My hands are shaking."

"There you go." Mack patted him on the shoulder.

"Coulson wants this fixed by… by noon, but I didn't sleep last night, and my hands… they're…" he trailed off again, stuttering, fists clenched tight. "Shaking," he finally ground out.

The atmosphere of the lab was suffocating. All his tools, his designs, and his results were still there, like they always were, but they were relics of his old self. He could no longer use half his tools, and some of his designs were too small to tinker with.

Mack patted him on the back and handed him the circuit board. "Try it again. I'll be over there if you need anything." As he walked away, he called over his shoulder, "Don't push yourself so hard. Every day is a new day."

Fitz grumbled under his breath as he looked over the piece of technology. He could do this. Even if he couldn't articulate it, he knew what he was doing. Gently placing the board down, he grabbed a pencil with the intention of writing down some specs.

But the closer he got to the page, the harder his hand shook. His handwriting turned out squiggly, and not at all okay.

The pencil went flying across the room and tinkled to a stop beside Mack, who looked over at Fitz. "Seriously, man?"

He just put his head in his hands. It was awful. He had learnt to write when he was barely three years old, penning short stories and poems often. It was one of the first skills he had ever mastered. Now, though, he couldn't even write without concentrating immensely, and having his penmanship look like a child's. "I just need-"

"You just need to take a break, that's what." Once again, Mack traversed the room and was beside Fitz. "Come back to this later. It's not a big deal."

"It is! It is a big deal!" Fitz threw his hands up in the air. "I can't- my hands are shaking, and… and… bloody hell!" He slammed his fists down on the table and stormed out.

Mack watched him go, something akin to pity in his eyes. With a sigh and a shake of his head, he slowly went back to his side of the room and went back to work.

He had never known Ward, but he wished he had. He wanted to punch that bastard into oblivion.

Hope you enjoyed, and felt the feels I tried to write. Review at will!