Disclaimer: Agents, I'll never own it.
Author's Note: I realize that, while I stole the brain damage from the show, I never got into it in my crossover. Plus I missed writing Fitz since he's my fav. So here's a little interlude from our action, to give a bit of backstory to Fitz, and to let us see the world briefly from the outside of the story.
Have you even been trapped in your own head? And by trapped, I mean: you see and hear but are completely unable to articulate those thoughts? It's infuriating.
What hurts the most though, is seeing my best friends suffer, and being unable to help them, except through the most abstract and circuitous fashions.
Like that picture. I know Jemma has had her brain screwed with by those drugs S.H.I.E.L.D. keeps dosing her with, but god damn, how does she not see that she is in love with Skye? Even before my brain was physically damaged, I could see they were more than just friends.
Memories, those are fuzzy. It's ridiculous that complex mathematical computations are what I remember but can't produce; that memories seem to be fuzzy and statically like an old tv not properly tuned but I couldn't talk to anyone about them anyway; and that I am thoroughly unable to look into the eyes of my friends and just tell them what I'm thinking.
One fuzzy memory that generally feels less fuzzy than many memories is one of everyone just hanging around the Bus. Jesus, how long ago was that? I don't know why this memory is clear, there's nothing special about it. Just myself, Coulson, Jemma, Ward, and Skye laughing and joking.
Anyway Skye is not much better about hiding her feelings than Jemma was. Well, I guess they were both good at it since neither seem to know the other is crazy about them, this civil war is just a smokescreen the two of them hide behind so they don't have to deal with their feelings.
That's sad.
You know, Skye appears sad as well.
Without thinking, Fitz drew.
'I am worried about that medicine Simmons is taking.' Skye said.
"Don't I know it. I've been thinking that everyday…" I want to say.
The pencil moved across the paper; red on the paper like blood.
How do you make your friends see what is obvious to you, but what that can't see themselves? How do you say, "Stop hurting yourselves? There's no need to punish yourselves for having differing views. There's no need to put on a mask to hide behind."
'See you tomorrow Fitz.'
Fitz sighed in exasperation. Skye stopped; she had never heard him indicate he understood what she was saying.
'Fitz, can you understand me?'
"No shit."
Fitz stood up and threw his pencil down in anger.
'Holy shit. Fitz, have you always understood me?'
Fitz began pacing, throwing his hands up as though he was having a spirited debate with an invisible and inaudible person.
"Bloody hell Skye, I understand. Why do you think I do these bloody pictures? Because I'm the next Renior? No, because I can't produce the bloody words to say it to you. Science only knows why I can't!"
And then there's that less fuzzy memory. Everyone is smiling, laughing.
Fitz stopped pacing. His breathing slowed and he felt arms wrap around him.
'I'm sorry Fitz. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sure it's hard for you; I can't even imagine.'
"If I could, I'd let you know that it's ok to be hurting too. Sure, this is hard for me, but I know you're hurting too."
Instead, Fitz just hugged Skye back. As Skye released the Scot, he scrambled over to his picture. A few pencil marks and Fitz skittered back, thrusting the product into Skye's hand.