Back at the Academy, whenever Simmons returned from another date with some muscular Ops guy, Fitz would wonder about going to the gym and starting training to stay in shape, look more like a man and less like a child. He even went there a few times, but weight lifting was difficult and boring and he hated the way other guys were looking at him, even though he knew their pity and laughs were only a creation of his imagination and lack of confidence.
It was not as difficult back then as it was now. Every day he was fighting desperately to lift his body to sitting position, his weak right arm trembling and protesting against any sort of work, his left hanging uselessly in a cast.
Now there were people around him too, of course, just like back then. People he knew, people whose opinions were important to him. It was easier with strangers, he decided. It was easier when it was some random person looking at him, not Simmons with her eyes intense as if she could lift his torso with just the force of her mind. She was smiling at him, but he could see her bitting her lips after every encouragement she gave, uncertain if she was saying the truth and everything would really work out in the end. He was torn between taking the comfort her words were offering and calling her on how he could clearly see that he was pathetic. But apart from being unable to sit, he was unable to speak too, so he just grit his teeth, trying to force himself to finally do something that would make him look like more than a shadow of a man. It used to be so easy, now he was slowly loosing hope of ever succeeding again and had to fight this feeling too. Even little kids can sit before they speak, surely he can't be worse than a little kid?
Well, maybe he could. He was already like a kid, needing help with the most basic of things. He couldn't even eat his soup on his own, not without making a mess everywhere around him. It even took him more than 20 minutes to eat a stupid dinner! He couldn't walk, he couldn't speak, he couldn't even sit. He probably wouldn't be able to tie his shoelaces given the chance too.
His arm trembled a little more and he tired to catch his balance but felt a sharp stab of pain in his left tiny bit of pain was apparently enough to break him now. He saw the alarm in Simmons' eyes, just when he started to fall.
Again.
Another disappointment.
Again.
This time it was Skye who caught him before he hit the surface, steadying him and pulling him up. He didn't know where to run away with his eyes, trying to avoid everyone and everything at the same time.
"Don't," he growled, too angry at himself for failing again, to notice anything else.
It took him a second and the bright smile blooming on Jemma's face to see that when his muscles again disobeyed him, his vocal cords finally listened.
A/N:
Finding a title for this chapter was really really hard. Just saying.
Next chapter is, for a change, gonna be funny (well, at least I hope it will be ;)
Thanks to TheLateNightStoryTeller and amandajbruce for beta reading.