Fitz soon joined the others at breakfast, just behind Simmons. Skye seemed half asleep, Triplett was stealing her bacon, May was watching them with vague interest, and Coulson was picking at his food.

Fitz followed Simmons toward the breakfast room, grabbing a plate. "How are you doing?" He whispered.

"Better," she replied, smiling at him warmly. "How about you?"

"Better as well," he said, returning her smile. As they grabbed something to eat, he couldn't help but notice how pretty she was. His face reddened at the thought, and he glanced away, following her out and back to the others.

After breakfast, Fitz retreated back to his room. His side was aching again, and he wanted to make sure it wasn't open.

Lifting his shirt up in front of the mirror, he looked at the injury, frowning. It was red, and it seemed inflamed. Thankfully, it wasn't deep enough for him to need stiches, so he didn't have to worry about that. However, he knew the tell-tale signs of infection, and he had a feeling simply cleaning it out with soap and water wouldn't cut it.

Rolling down his shirt, Fitz left his bathroom and made his way into Simmons's room. He realized he was limping a bit again, and he hoped no one would notice. "Simmons?" He called, stopping at the adjoining doorway and peering into her room. "Are you here?"

Simmons headed over to him, and he realized her bathroom light was on. "Everything okay, Fitz?" She asked, smiling softly. God, he loved that smile.

"I think the wound's getting infected," Fitz admitted, and Simmons nodded, not surprised.

"Come here and I'll clean it out," she said, turning and heading back to her bathroom.

He followed after her painfully and sat down on the side of the tub. On the counter, he noticed, was a tube of Neosporin, hydrogen peroxide, some cotton balls, and other medical supplies. "Is your head okay?"

"It is," Simmons assured as she grabbed the small bottle of hydrogen peroxide and some cotton balls. "I'm trying to keep it clean."

Fitz rolled up his shirt and sat up so she could clean out his wound, and he eyed the supplies again. "Where'd you find those? I thought the hotel didn't carry it."

"Skye went out and bought them last night," Simmons explained, sitting down next to him. Carefully, she dabbed the hydrogen peroxide soaked cotton balls onto his wound, and he gave a small gasp, startled by the cold and the sharp sting. "Sorry."

"It's not your fault," he assured, forcing himself to relax. "I just wasn't expecting it."

Simmons nodded and continued to clean out his wound. "You noticed it at a good time," she murmured. "If you waited any longer it would have gotten worse." She stood up and threw away the cotton balls, grabbing the Neosporin and pulling out a large bandage pad. Heading back over to Fitz, she dabbed Neosporin over the cut and patched it with the bandage. "There, that should hold for a while," she said, her voice carrying a note of confidence.

"Thank you, Simmons," Fitz said, smiling up at her as he pulled down his shirt.

She smiled back and helped him up too his feet. "Anytime," she answered, and for a moment their gazes lingered on each other, fingers still brushing. Finally, Fitz glanced away, a light blush tinging his cheeks. His gaze landed on the stack of towels, and he realized they had yet to be touched.

"Did you get new towels?" He asked, looking back at Simmons. She dropped her gaze and he realized why it hadn't been touched. He reached out a hand and gently grasped hers.

"I'm scared," she admitted slowly. "I tried to get in last night, but I couldn't do it."

Fitz gave her hand a small squeeze. "You're braver than me. I couldn't even turn on the water last night," he said honestly.

Simmons smiled sadly. "I know we need to get over the fear, but I couldn't breathe when I felt the water." She shook her head irritably, as if angry at herself for letting her fear get the best of her.

Fitz understood what she felt.

"You know I feel the same," he murmured. He hesitated, but decided to hold back his suggestion. However, Simmons brought it up instead.

She looked down at her feet sheepishly, running a hand through her hair. "Do… do you think you could wait in the hallway…?"

He nodded and promised, "I will." She looked back up at him, relieved.

"Thank you, Leo."

He retreated from the bathroom and carefully lowered himself to the ground, wincing. The door remained open, but he refused to look inside. He would not violate her trust or her privacy.

Fitz heard the shower turn on and Simmons gasp. He got to his feet and swayed, staying outside despite wanting to go in to help her. "Jemma," he called. "You're safe. You're not drowning."

"Right," she called back, her voice unsettled. "I'm okay."

Fitz stayed on his feet, not moving from his spot. He listened as she carried on with her shower and was relieved that she didn't panic again after the first time.

When she got out, he still did not look inside and waited until she came out of the bathroom. He looked up at her when she stood in front of him, and he noticed she looked much better. "Thank you," she said, smiling. "Would you like me to do the same?"

Fitz hesitated but nodded, knowing it was now or never. "Sure," he said, nodding. "Do you mind if I use yours?"

"Not at all," she replied and gently gave his hand a squeeze. "I'll be right out here."

Fitz headed into the bathroom, stripping off his clothes. Stepping into the shower, he took a deep breath to steal himself before turning on the water. Immediately, as the water sprayed onto his body, he inhaled sharply, starting to panic.

"You're safe, Leo," Simmons called, and he focused on her lovely voice. "Just breathe. Remember, you can get out whenever you want too."

Taking deep breaths, Fitz concentrated on that fact, focusing his mind on the fact he was in the shower and he could indeed get out whenever he wanted. He was not trapped; he was not drowning. "I'm okay," he answered, voice small, but he was feeling calmer. "I'm okay."

After he finished his shower, dried off, and got dressed, he left the bathroom. Simmons was waiting for him, sitting on the floor. Fitz sat down next to her and smiled. "We did it," he murmured, and she smiled back.

It was a little victory for them both.

I'll be posting a new one-shot, and it will be a prequel to Aftermath. So, it will have FitzSimmons in the box, and Simmons trying to stop the bleeding. Not sure when it will be up, exactly, but I am currently working on it. And this has now become a three shot, so expect chapter three to pop up soon...