"Fitz!" The scientist could hear Simmons calling for him, but it barely registered. "FITZ! Fitz where–" She broke off when she turned the corner and nearly tripped over her coworker who was kneeling on the ground. "Fitz! Are you alright? What happened? We were so worried about you when you just disappeared and we couldn't find you and–"
Fitz waved his hand. "Shh!"
Simmons cautiously knelt beside him to get a better look at whatever he was bent over. She gasped as she saw the small ball of matted and bloodied fur. "Oh the poor thing," she murmured. "Is it alive?"
"Think so," Fitz replied. "She was whimpering a bit ago. I was waiting for you to get here since you've got the med- med kit."
Simmons nodded. "Could you carry it back to the plane? It'll be easier for me to look at it back at base. Assuming Coulson lets it stay," she added, almost as an afterthought.
Slowly, Fitz reached down and edged his hands under the puppy's trembling body. "Come on, girl, let's go," he murmured. The puppy let out a small yelp as Fitz touched its leg, but was otherwise silent. "There you go. You'll be ok. I won't let anything happen to you. I promise."
Careful to avoid any bumps to the small creature in Fitz's arms, he and Simmons cautiously made their way back to the meeting point. Skye was the first to see them approach.
"Fitz! We were looking for you for almost — What is that?" she asked as she saw what Fitz was carrying.
"That is a terrified and severely injured puppy who I am going to try to save," Simmons said as she used her arm to try to herd Skye away from the quivering animal.
Skye glanced back at Fitz as she was lead away. "What's his name?"
"She doesn't have one yet," Fitz replied.
"I dunno, Fitz. He looks like a boy to me."
"I'm the one who found her, so I think I'd know."
"I can settle this," Simmons interrupted, "once we get back to base. But I can't do anything here, so can we get going?" Skye nodded and reluctantly moved away. "Thank you," Simmons said with a smile.
Once on the plane, Simmons carefully helped fasten Fitz's safety restraints around him as he help the puppy before she felt a tap on the shoulder. She turned to see one of the lab assistants standing hesitantly behind her. "Excuse me, Dr. Simmons. I'm sorry for asking, but are you sure Director Coulson would be alright with you taking the dog back to the Playground?"
Simmons smiled. "I guess we'll find out, won't we?"
—
Simmons had just finished the cast around the puppy's leg, when out of the corner of her eye she saw Coulson enter the lab. "What exactly did you think you were doing when you brought an animal on base? Did you just forget that you're a SHIELD agent and there are protocols that need to be followed? You didn't even call in to ask!"
"Better to ask for forgiveness than permission," Fitz muttered from where he stood next to Skye, a safe distance away from the operating table.
Coulson turned to face him. "And you, Fitz! You of all people I'd have expected to follow protocol. But no, you both think you're above all that apparently and that you–"
The director's rant was cut short by a noise from the waking puppy, and he looked down at the table at the newly shaven creature as it raised its head. Sleepily, it blinked its eyes open, and seeing the new person standing next to it, tried to wag its tail.
"See, Coulson?" Skye started. "Look how cute it is! You couldn't toss a face like that back out onto the streets, could you?"
He glanced at her and then back at the dog, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He sighed. "Fine, we can try it." Simmons smiled, relieved, as Fitz and Skye high-fived. "But," Coulson cut off their celebrations, "if anything happens, it goes." The trio nodded enthusiastically. "So, what kind of dog is it?"
"It's hard for me to tell right now, sir. The fur was too dirty and matted to tell, and I had to cut it off for the surgery," Simmons explained. "But from the size of the body and the shape of the ears and face, I'd say likely a golden retriever."
Coulson nodded. "My favorite," he said with a small smile. "By the way, what's our little guest's name?"
Fitz grinned proudly. "Her name is Bella."
—
It wasn't long before everyone on base knew who Bella was and loved her. She received no shortage of pats on the head and back scratches throughout the day, but she always somehow found herself at the side of either Skye, Fitz, or Simmons. As she stayed longer, however, she role seemed to change from simply a pet to something... more.
It had started in the middle of the night about three weeks after Bella had arrived. She had gone to bed thinking that pretty much everyone else on base had done the same, but the noise of someone yelling had woken her up. A second later the yell came again, and Bella realized it was Fitz. Quickly, she ran over to his room and, finding the door slightly ajar, nudged it open with her nose, ready to fight any attackers she found. But to her confusion, the room was empty. As Bella padded in, Fitz cried out again. He was tangled in his bedsheets, fast asleep, with forehead covered in sweat and cheeks damp with tears. Concerned, Bella sat quietly next to the bed and nudged his arm with her cold, wet nose.
Fitz's eyes flew open, and his arm lashed out, hitting Bella in the face, as he scrambled to sit up. Breathing hard, he blinked a few times to try to get his bearings. He looked down at the dog sitting quietly beside his bed, and the tension slowly melted from his shoulders.
"Bella. Oh. I– I'm sorry. I just– I didn't realize..." Fitz trailed off and he sighed shakily, brushing away the tears left over from the nightmare. Bella whined, concerned, making Fitz smile a tiny bit. "Sorry I woke you up, girl. Go back to bed, ok? Bed!" he commanded, pointing out the door.
Reluctantly, she stood up, looked anxiously between her bed and the young scientist, and whined again. Fitz sighed. "Fine. Come on, Bella." He patted the bed. "Just don't let Coulson know, ok? Just this once," he said as Bella jumped happily up onto his bed. Then, after turning around once or twice, she lay down, half in the bed and half on Fitz. With a small smile, he started to pet her.
"You're lucky you probably never knew your dad," he said softly. "I'd rather I hadn't known mine. Like Skye. She's got a crappy dad but at least she didn't have to grow up with him." He smiled wryly. "Welcome to the team, where half of us don't have dads and the rest have crappy ones. Except Simmons." He sighed. "I miss her. I mean, she's here, but she's... not. It's not the same as it was. When she left–" He stopped short and clenched his shaking hand, burying it into Bella's long golden fur. "Talking to you helps though. I don't stutter or anything. I feel almost like i did before..." Fitz trailed off, exhausted from his nights of restless sleep, and rested his head on Bella's legs.
When Skye came to find Fitz the next morning, she opened the door to see him curled around Bella, who was lying there patiently watching Skye. She smiled at the peaceful scene. "Hey, Bella," she whispered.
The dog wagged her tail gently, accidentally hitting Fitz's leg. Bleary eyed, he sat up and blinked at his friend silhouetted by the bright light from the hallway. "What time is it?" he mumbled.
"Time for you to reassemble your watch," she teased. "Come on, Mack is looking for you."
—
One day, however, something changed.
The sound of Skye's footsteps entering the lab made Bella's ears perk up. Excitedly, she tried to reach her to say hello, but was blocked by the armed agents who accompanied her. Tail drooped, she followed as Skye was escorted to a large containment area. Skye glanced back at the door as it closed behind her and smiled when she saw the dog sitting on the other side, looking at her forlornly. "Sorry, Bella," she said softly. "You can't come in. I'd let you in if I could, but…" She trailed off with a sigh and sat heavily on the crisp, white bed. "Go find, I dunno, Fitz or somebody. They can pet you. Unlike me, they weren't idiots and don't have to be quarantined." She glanced back over at the door where Bella was still sitting. "Go on!" She motioned with her hand. Bella whined and lay down, resting her head on her paws. Skye smiled a tiny bit. "Fine, you stubborn thing. Stay here then. But I'll talk your ears off as punishment."
She was about to start in on a diatribe about how stupid she had been and how she had endangered the entire team, when Fitz walked hesitantly into the lab. "Fitz! I, uh, I wasn't expecting you to visit."
"Yeah, the - uh - the technicians are preparing some tests. Simmons requested them. Wants to get samples right after whatever happened in there. I just thought I'd come by and see how you're doing."
"I'm doing just fine. Bella on the other hand…" She nodded over to where the dog lay dejectedly.
"Maybe I can help." He walked to the door of the containment unit and knelt beside her. "Hey, Bella! Want to go for a walk?" Bella wagged her tail excitedly, but then looked back at Skye and whined. A small smile crept onto Fitz's face. "Seems she wants to stay here. Hold on." Quickly, he glanced around the lab, and, not seeing anybody else, opened the door.
Bella scrambled to her feet and squeezed through the opening, tail nearly wagging off of her body. At the invitation of Skye, she jumped up onto the bed and lay down contentedly, head resting on Skye's lap as Skye leaned down to bury her face in the long, golden fur. After a second, she looked up again. "Thank you, Fitz."
—
Days later, Skye was finally out of quarantine, and the base had some visitors.
Bella stood tensely in the lab next to Simmons and looked anxiously first up at her, then out the door she was standing by. At Bella's whine, Simmons reached down absentmindedly and gave her a scratch on the head that was not even remotely reassuring, despite how nice it had felt.
Suddenly, May ran by with Skye in tow. Bella looked excitedly up at Simmons, wondering if they were all going to go for a run. But, seeing her stay where she was, Bella resigned herself to having a run-less day.
A few seconds later, Fitz ran by as well. Not wanting to miss this opportunity to go running, and having decided that Simmons was obviously wrong about running, Bella scrambled to her feet and followed him.
Fitz sprinted around a corner and to a locked storage closet. Hands shaking, he fumbled with the keys, finally finding the one he was looking for. He darted into the room and emerged with a huge mass of metal. Wondering what it was, Bella followed Fitz closely as he ran back to the lab where he found Bobbi and the alien fighting. Suddenly, Fitz stopped and lifted the gun. In a flash, Bella stood up on her back legs and curiously stuck her head in front of it, just as Fitz pulled the trigger.
"BELLA!" Fitz screamed as she fell back down to the floor limply. He dropped the gun as he fell to his knees beside her.
"Fitz!" Bobbi yelled to him. "A little help here?"
Eyes starting to burn with tears, Fitz glanced back up at the other agent who was currently being strangled. Without thinking, he grabbed the gun from where it lay and, still in his knees, fired a wild shot in her attacker's direction.
A few seconds later, Bobbi stood from where she had wiped the memory of the Kree. "Fitz, what were you doing?! You were barely even looking when you fired that thing! You could have missed, or worse, hit me!" she lectured. "What hap–" She broke off when she saw the unmoving shape Fitz was hunched over. "Oh, Fitz, I am so sorry..."
Fitz didn't answer as his shoulders shook. Cautiously, Bobbi knelt beside him and placed a hand gently on his shoulder, which he immediately shrugged off. She let her hand fall away as he leaned over to cradle the dog's head. "Fitz," she said softly. "Come on. Skye still needs our help, remember? Lady Sif?"
"You go," Fitz mumbled, voice thick with tears. "I can't fight anyway. 'Specially not against Sif."
Knowing he was right, Bobbi sighed and stood. "Stay safe, alright?"
His answer was a sob.
—
The next few days were dreary and cold, perfect for the small funeral Coulson was letting them organize. It had taken very little begging to convince Coulson to let them burry Bella near the base and get her a small gravestone. "Bella, the greatest agent on four legs," it read. Simmons has written it when Fitz was too broken up to think of anything.
Fitz gently traced the simple words with his fingertips and let out a shaky sigh. A hand landed softly on his shoulder, and he turned his head to see Simmons standing next to him. She opened her mouth to say something, but then decided against it.
After a moment, Fitz spoke instead. "I promised–" Fitz cleared his throat. "I promised her I wouldn't let anything happen to her. And then I go and–"
"Fitz, it wasn't your faul–"
"Yes it was!" He turned and brushed off her hand. "I shouldn't have let her follow. I should've... I shouldn't have shot..."
Simmons sighed. "You saved Bobbi. She'd probably be dead now if it weren't for you!"
"But I promised..." He trailed off as a tear slid down his cheek. Suddenly something occurred to him, and he stumbled as he took a step back. "No," he whispered.
"Fitz? What is it?"
"He was right. I'm just like him, no better." Fitz's face was pale as he stared unseeing at the headstone.
"Who, Fitz?"
"I promised just like he did. And then I hurt her. Just like he–" Fitz suddenly remembered who was beside him, and his face turned back into stone as he turned sharply to leave.
"Fitz! You can't just leave! Not like that!" she called after him.
He spun back. "What, like you did?"
Simmons sighed. "Not that again. You know why I left; I've already told you. Multiple times!"
"Yeah well that still doesn't excuse you just leav–"
"It's your dad, isn't it."
Fitz froze. "How..."
She looked away. "There were a few–" She cleared her throat and tried again. "I got... suspicious. I mean, you never mention him, it's only ever your mum, and I thought maybe..."
"What? That he'd died? Then what'd you have done? 'Oh, Fitz, I'm so sorry about your dead dad, and you've probably gotten over it, but I'm going to bring it up again with brain-damaged Fitz because that's a genius idea!'" he said mockingly. "Well, he might be. I don't know. I don't care. We got out. That's all I care about." He spun on his heel again to leave.
"You're not like him," she said, just loud enough for him to hear. Fitz stopped but didn't turn. "You're not. I read the whole file. Everything I could access, anyway. I promise you, you are nothing like him."
"He would promise me things. Nice things. We'd go to the zoo, he'd get me chocolates, but he never did it. He never did any of it. And then if I tried to bring it up– I learned quick not to do that." He paused. "That's what I did with her. I promised her but hurt her instead. I am just like–"
"Would your father have wanted to rescue an injured, dying puppy in the first place? And train it? And everything else you did for her? You are nothing like your father." It was then that Simmons noticed Fitz's shaking shoulders. She placed a gentle hand on them.
Fitz turned his head to see her face, and she saw his damp with tears. "Thanks," he whispered. And with a small, weak smile, he turned and walked slowly back to the vans.