SETTING: Picks up after 1x22 ("Beginning of the End") and the chapter "Drawing Lines" of this story. General spoilers for season 1 and early season 2.
CHAPTER SUMMARY: Fitz wakes up.

The day Fitz awoke from the coma, Coulson wasn't answering his phone.

He'd been holed up but not exactly sequestered. "By appointment only" had been Billy's repeated refrain, and he took the command very seriously. Still, Coulson had been present at the evening meals and the morning briefings, and had been meeting regularly with each of them about their assignments. Just "by appointment only", that was all.

Skye had the most appointments, and the longest ones, as her responsibilities were more varied and complicated. They rarely met alone, but Skye was keeping track of how he looked, how he sounded. And all things considered, he looked and sounded good. When they DID have a few minutes to themselves, she was more pointed in her evaluations: Was he sleeping? Was he eating? Did he need to take a break? And Coulson truthfully reported that he was rested and fed and feeling energized by the work he was doing. All was well. And she believed him, so for the most part she left him alone. She had her own duties and her own tasks to attend to, after all.

But the evening Fitz woke up from the coma, she didn't have time to make an appointment, and the fact that he was ignoring her calls and texts annoyed her to no end. Billy was off-site with May, so neither of them would be any help. She'd have to take matters into her own hands.

Skye could hear loud music from inside the office, loud enough to make her knocking ineffective. The door was locked, but electronically. And since a part of her assigned tasks related to electronic security, she already - mostly - had access. She pulled out her tablet and it didn't take long to get her the rest of the way.

Coulson didn't look up, didn't notice her, until she swatted the arm of the record player, bringing a sudden silence to the room. "'Appointment only' applies to you too, Skye," he told her curtly, obviously annoyed at being interrupted.

"Yeah, you can write me up on that later." She stalked toward his desk and picked up his phone, typing in the unlock code from memory (she'd been looking over his shoulder a few times) before tossing it to him. "Knowing you had your phone on silent is only slightly better than thinking you were just ignoring my texts, by the way. Now let's go."

Skye was already on her way out of the room so he had no choice but to follow if he wanted to find out what was going on. "And where are we going exactly?" he asked as he rushed to catch up, shrugging on his suit jacket.

"Fitz is waking up."

"You could have led with that," he mumbled, overtaking her, trying to banish the hope that flushed through him along with the burst of adrenaline her words incited.

Her hand curled around his forearm, slowing him. "Coulson, what if -"

"Don't," he cut her off abruptly, but his hand over hers soothed any offense as he now pulled her along. "Whatever happens..."

"I know." She let go of his arm as they approached, allowing him to enter first.

Alarms were blaring. Fitz was panicking. Jemma was panicking. Trip was obviously trying not to panic but was way out of his depth.

Coulson took charge in the only way he could.

"Fitz!" Coulson laid a hand on the young man's chest, partially to restrain and partially to offer reassurance. "Fitz, I need you to calm down." He barked at Trip to turn off the monitor alarms, an order that was hastily obeyed and that immediately lowered the stress in the room by a few degrees. "Fitz, I know you're freaking out, I get it. But you're safe. You're going to be fine. So I need you to breathe, buddy." 'Buddy' - the word felt strange as it left Coulson's lips, like something he would say to a child. But then Fitz looked like a child just then, seemed very small and helpless, sobbing. So maybe that was okay. Maybe it was what he needed. "Fitz, breathe."

"I - I -" Fitz stuttered, trying to put together thoughts, words. Frustrated, terrified that he couldn't.

Skye was at Coulson's side now, at Fitz' side, drying his tears and then pulling his seeking hand into her own. "You're okay, Fitz. We've got you."

"You don't need to worry about anything right now, okay?" Coulson continued. "All you have to do right now is rest and let your body heal. And do what Simmons says."

"I -" Still grasping.

"Agent Fitz, that's an order." Coulson's stern tone seemed to reach him, and he stopped trying to speak, concentrating instead of drawing in deep, shuddery breaths. "Rest, heal, and don't worry. Give Simmons some time to evaluate what's going on. Give your brain some time to get things sorted out. You've got time. We've got time."

Coulson looked up at Jemma then, watched her racing around, saw that while Fitz was calming her panic was still in control. So when she left the room to retrieve something he followed her, standing in the doorway then grabbed her by the wrist as she tried to push by him and pulled her into his arms. Her protests were lost mid-sentence before the maneuver was even completed as she gave into her tears. He held her for a really long time, gently rocking, leaning close to her ear and murmuring reassurances.

When she finally pulled away, he wouldn't let her hide, wouldn't let her duck away in embarrassment. Instead he took her face in his hands, wiping at her tears with his thumbs, holding her gaze. "You've got this, okay? Just slow down. Take your time." He returned the small smile that crept to her lips. "We've got time."

(Jemma would repeat this to Fitz for the months to follow as his progress remained slow and halting. The real Jemma, and the Jemma Fitz' injured brain would eventually concoct in her absence.)

Coulson released her then to let her work, trusting she was ready to do what needed to be done. Ordering Trip to stay at her side, to do whatever was asked, he stepped back outside the room to let them work, motioning for Skye to join him.

They stood watching through the glass wall for a long time, processing, calming. Finally he started walking away towards his bunk, and she walked with him, still silent.

Eventually Coulson roused from his thoughts when he felt like he was being watched, glanced at Skye who was looking at him with a funny expression.

"What's that face for?"

"I don't know," she said with a grin and a shrug. "Just the way you handled that..."

Coulson rolled his eyes. "No. Don't even."

"What?"

"I see you getting all sentimental. Don't you dare start calling me 'dad'."

Skye nearly tripped over her own feet in surprise that he had so completely misread her. "Whoa. Dude. I'm aware people must think I have the mother of all daddy issues, but that isn't gonna happen, no worries." She wrinkled her nose. "Although I guess you WERE pretty parental back there. Which probably makes it mostly creepy that I thought it was kinda hot."

Coulson let out a short, surprised burst of laughter, and may have blushed just a little bit. "'Hot'? You've gotta be kidding me."

"Strong, authoritative man who is also in touch with his feelings?" she teased. "Chicks totally dig that."

"Maybe, but this 'strong, authoritative man' is actually old enough to be your father, so there's that."

"Oh, come on, Phil." She bumped him with her shoulder. "We could totally pull off an April/September thing. It would be adorable."

"Thanks for not saying 'December', but that's DIRECTOR to you, young lady," he answered sternly. "And since you're obviously already dreaming, it's probably past your bedtime."

She smiled at him sweetly, but her next suggestion could only have been lewd. "You offering to tuck me in?"

"Stop!" he told her, laughing again.

He should have chastised her in earnest. But Fitz was awake. It made it okay to laugh and be silly.

They parted ways, Coulson intending to bathe and go to bed early, Skye intending to go for a run, grab a snack and a shower, then head back to Fitz and see what she could do to help. But in the end he DID find himself tucking her in, summoned to her quarters by a short text claiming that something was definitely wrong with Fitz, and Jemma wasn't sure it would be temporary.

Yet when he arrived, they didn't talk about it, didn't talk really at all. She let him in, turned off the light and led him to the bed as though expecting a long, hushed conversation. He pulled the covers to her shoulders and then climbed around her, his back coming to lean against the wall and his legs bent over hers, settling in as though he expected the same. But what was there to say that hadn't already been said in the heat of things? All they could do was give Fitz time, and hope for the best.

Coulson stayed for a long while, even after Skye had fallen asleep. And as he left he adjusted her blankets, smoothed her hair, pressed his lips to her forehead. Very parental things to do, he realized, containing a chuckle that rose to his throat. But as he walked back to his own room he allowed himself a few moments to dwell on some very non-parental feelings. "'Hot'," he said aloud to himself, then shook his head, amused and a little bemused as well.

It would be a lie to say he wasn't guilty of flirting in the past, of noticing her flirting, but this was the first time either of them had outright entertained the notion - even, as it was, in complete jest - of anything romantic ever developing between them. Mostly, though, their earlier foolishness had made him realize how wonderful it was to have someone in his life he COULD flirt and be foolish with, without it needing to be anything more.

As he shut himself inside his own room, he let that line of thought go. He had more important things to mull over, more important things to keep in focus.

And as for anything Skye's goading might have teased to the surface... well, what could he do but take his own advice: Give it time, and maybe - just maybe - hope for the best.