She thinks it might be better if Jemma isn't there.
Daisy agrees.
"Jemma, we both know Fitz, and we both know that he's still thinking about it." Daisy pauses, shifting in her stance. "Everything."
"Well, of course." Jemma replies, indignantly, glancing first at Daisy, and then to May.
May thinks that Jemma's still thinking about it, too. Everything.
(aren't they all?)
"And I knew him in the Framework." May rubs her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut just for a moment. "I was there a lot longer than you."
Daisy nudges Jemma and smiles lightly. "C'mon, it'll be a girls' night. We can see what space prison has in their movie collection, since I don't think there's any Wi-Fi. We can invite Elena, too."
Jemma doesn't respond to Daisy, or even look at her. She stares at May, and May stares back. Finally, she blinks, reaching up to brush a strand of hair that fell into her face. "I think… I think you're right."
May exhales. "He in your room?"
"Yeah."
"Good. I'll come get you in a bit."
Jemma nods, eyes shifting towards the floor, biting her lip, and standing very, very still.
May watches as Daisy links her arm with Jemma's, standing very, very still, but with her.
"Jemma."
She looks up.
May meets her eyes and reaches out, gripping her shoulder gently. "It's going to be okay."
(But she always promises that, doesn't she?)
She knocks on the door with one hand, and makes sure the two bottles she's holding in the other is hidden from the view of the security camera.
There's no response.
She knocks again, this time a bit louder.
Nothing.
She takes a deep breath and knocks again, the metal vibrating slightly.
"Fitz. Open up."
She faintly hears clattering and rattling on the other side, and with a final clang, the door opens, but just a crack. But its enough so May can see that Fitz is standing there with his shirt wrinkled, his hair ruffled, his face expressionless.
And his eyes.
May knows those eyes.
She's seen it when she looks into Daisy's, when she looks into Jemma's, when she looks into her own goddamn mirror and looks at herself staring back.
(They're all haunted.)
May holds up the beers, not caring about the security camera anymore.
She won't mind getting into trouble for this.
"Care for a drink?" She musters.
She watches as his eyes flit from the bottles to her face then back down to the bottles again. His hand tightens its grip on the door, and she pretends she doesn't notice.
"May."
"Yes?"
He shakes his head and looks down at the floor, scratching his cheek and opening the door all the way.
"Come in."
She lets him close the door behind her, and she heads right towards the unmade bed. She pulls the blanket straight, and sighs as she sits down.
He watches her from the door.
"Well?" May holds out a beer to him. "I didn't steal these for nothing."
Fitz pauses.
"You… stole them."
"Yeah.' May dryly replies. "What, you think I bought them from the supermarket across the block? Now come on, or I'm gonna drink yours after I drink mine."
She thinks that she might've seen a ghost of a smile on his face.
He makes his way over to her and sits on the edge of the bed, the furthest he could possibly be from her.
They each open their beers, and they each take a swig.
May reads the label.
Fitz stares out the window.
"We're not friends." May finally says, leaning back against the wall, rubbing the smooth glass of her bottle with her thumb.
"Okay." Fitz finally says, quietly.
"We've gone through more than that, to just be 'friends'." May adds. "Don't you think?"
"Okay."
"So, I don't know what you would call us, but I wouldn't call us friends."
"Okay."
"You're just going to say 'okay' to everything I say?"
Fitz doesn't reply to that, just taking a sip, which makes May snort.
"You going to make me talk the whole time?"
"May." Fitz suddenly turns to face her, brows furrowed, his lips already a thin line. "What do you want?"
(She thinks that everything she wants to say just won't be enough.)
"Nobody knew you as well as I did, back in the Framework." She answers as he looks away, back towards the window.
"You knew The Doctor." He snaps back immediately.
"Yes." She agrees. "I knew The Doctor. And I knew the Director."
She doesn't continue, and waits for him to fill in the gaps of what he doesn't want to hear and what she doesn't want to say.
"I know you're trying to forgive yourself, and that's good." May stops looking at him and instead focuses on the window, too. "And you know that no one blames you for what happened, and that's good, too. But I don't think it's good to not talk about what else happened."
"I don't know what you mean." Fitz whispers.
She watches out of the corner of her eye as his hand begins to tremble, and he sets the beer on the floor.
"I think you do."
Both his hands are shaking now, and he's rubbing them forwards and backwards on his pants and May takes a swig before she sets down her beer, turns towards him, and places her hand on his.
He instantly flinches from her touch, and tears his hand from hers.
She pretends not to notice.
"You are not The Doctor." May says. "You are not that man just as I am not that woman. But we still remember everything that happened. We remember entire lives that were ours. We remember thinking we made our own choices, but it wasn't at all."
"She manipulated you."
She doesn't want it to, and she pretends not to notice, but her voice cracks when she says those words.
"You don't think I know that?" He balls his hands into fists, and bends forward, putting his head between his knees. May hears his heavy breathing, and she knows that he's just trying to make himself as small as possible.
"I'm not here to play mind games with you, Fitz."
"No, that was what she did." His voice is muffled, and it's not his hands that tremble anymore, but his entire body.
May reaches out to touch him, but hesitates, dropping her hand and settling to place it in the space between them.
"I can still feel her touch, sometimes." He says. "I feel it, and it disgusts me. I remember when I wanted it, and I feel sick, and I remember when I didn't, and I feel dirty."
Fitz looks up at her, with his eyes that she knows too well, clouded with tears and hurt and ghosts, meeting hers. "I'm tired."
"I know." Is all she can reply.
He drops his head down again. "And…sometimes..." he whispers, so soft, so fearful. "I can't even bear Jemma touching me."
This is when May closes the distance between them and wraps her arm around his frame, and she thinks that she feels him flinch, but he doesn't move away.
"Anything and everything that AIDA, both in the Framework and out, did was without your consent. The Doctor wanted it, but The Doctor was influenced. Programmed. Manipulated. The Doctor was in a relationship that you never consented to."
She rubs his back with her hand, and wishes that it could also carry some of the weight that he has to bear. Fitz chokes on a sob, and she has to swallow before she can continue.
"It's always going to burn." May whispers. "I won't lie to you. Some days will be better than others, but you're always going to have these scars. But Fitz."
He inhales deeply, and she continues.
"Scars only mean that you are stronger than whatever tried to hurt you. Scars only mean that you are alive."
May leans forward and lifts his chin so he can meet her gaze.
"Scars only mean that now, you can only go forward."
Fitz sniffs and she lets go, letting him lift his own hands so he can wipe away the mist from his cheeks.
"O-okay." He finally says, shakily.
"You and Jemma talked yet?" She says gently.
"Yeah."
May stares at him until he sighs.
"No. Not really."
"Well, maybe it's time to change that." May stands up and picks up her beer, heading towards the door. Her fingers are on the handle, when he calls out her name. She looks back at him, the young man sitting on the bed, and she blinks—for a moment, she can see the small boy who laid on the bed, unconscious as they all waited for him to wake up.
"Thanks." Fitz says. "For not being my friend."
She nods crisply, and then tightens her grip on the door.
"You know where I am, if you need me."
Fitz clears his throat. "Yeah, I know. I promise."
May opens the door and shuts it behind her, pausing to catch her breath before walking back down the hallway, walking away.
She thinks that, one day, she'll finally promise that it's going to be okay, and it will be true.