11: 2.28 PSYCHOSIS
The high pitch screeching of the alarm filled the room at 7am. It took a good minute or two before Fitz found the strength to open his eyes, reach his arm to his side and switch it off. A cold sweat had come over him yet again in the middle of the night. He felt like he was sleeping in Hell. If you asked him he'd say he probably was.
"Take your time, ease back into it. Rest as much as you need."
He'd heard those words from so many different people over the past month. Why would he want to stay in bed and just rest? It wasn't going to change what had happened. All it would do is remind him even more of what he could no longer do.
Grabbing the bed post, he pulled himself to the edge of the bed and his new daily ritual began. As always, he'd stare at the crappy S.H.I.E.L.D. branded wheelchair sat at the side of his bed, an echo of his old life, and hope he'd soon wake up from whatever nightmare he must be in. His room on The Bus was small enough even before he had to squeeze that bloody thing in.
At first, either Jemma or Mack would help him out of bed and into the chair every morning, but he very quickly got fed up with that. He didn't care if he fell on his arse trying, he'd get into that bloody wheelchair by his bloody self. He liked to think of it as being battered, not broken.
His shaky hands squeezed the metallic rims of the chair tightly as he threw himself into it. He remained sat in it as he put on some fresh clothes. It took a while, but he always got there in the end.
As he rolled out of his room and heard one wheel squeak, he made a mental note to ask Mack if he could oil the chair. Again.
It was a piece of garbage, but with so much money lost with HQ's destruction he'd told Coulson to save money and let him make do with a chair from the medical bay. It did the job, after all.
Jemma was surprised to see him as he entered the lab, instantly putting down the beakers she was inspecting and rushing towards him.
"Fitz, I told you not to come in today. Coulson said you could rest as much as you needed to." Jemma said softly.
"Yeah, and I don't need to. I'm a big boy, Simmons; I don't want to sit in my room feeling sorry for myself all day." Fitz said.
"I understand that, but it's only been a month. I just…I don't want you to push yourself too much too fast." Jemma said, worried.
"As if you'll let me. Besides, if I actually work in here you won't come checking on me every ten minutes." Fitz sighed, making his way to his work station.
"It wasn't every ten minutes."
"I counted."
He reached for a book on his desk, but his arm couldn't reach that far back anymore. Jemma rushed over, picked up the book and handed it to him.
"…Thanks." Fitz whispered.
"No problem."
"We'll have to lower my desk a bit." Fitz added.
"Leo, you don't need to be strong. You don't need to try and prove anything. No one sees you any differently." Jemma said.
"Oh, really? So you always used to check in on me thirty times a day, did you? Hunter used to avoid making any jokes around me, did he? May used to smile at me all the time, did she? Everyone sees me differently; they think I'm useless and if I can't even reach a bloody book on MY desk then -"
"-Leo, stop it."
"WHY SHOULD I? Why can't I moan? Do I not have a right to? Am I just allowed to be okay with this then? Because I'm not! I'm angry all the bloody time. I'm angry at the world and I'm angry at myself, so why the hell am I not allowed to say what everyone is thinking and just let it all out?" Fitz argued furiously. Tears filled Jemma's eyes.
"Because you're breaking my heart."
Fitz stared at her, unable to find any words for a long time. He became overwhelmed by a feeling to escape; it physically pained him to see Jemma cry, especially when she was crying over him.
"I, um…I'm gonna go find Mack. The wheel's a bit squeaky, so…yeah." He whispered then hurried out of the room. Jemma watched him and cried silently the second he left her sight.
…
Coulson walked into the interrogation room and was greeted by a surprised Dr Andrew Garner, his eyebrows rising at his presence.
"You're early. Your appointment's in 17 minutes."
"Can't say I had a lot else to do. Plus, when May forces me to come to one of these it's best to not risk being late." Coulson said, sitting opposite Andrew at the table in the centre of the room.
"She hates showing it, but Melinda does care." Andrew smiled.
"Why did she ask you to come? I'm fine." Coulson said.
"If that were true, you wouldn't have come. You'd have faced her wrath." Andrew stated. Coulson said nothing.
Andrew switched on a tape recorder next to him.
"The time is 2.28pm. Patient is Director Phillip Coulson. Interview is conducted by Doctor Andrew Garner and the following recordings are for his examination only." Andrew stated, looking up at Coulson and staying silent for a moment, reading his face.
"How's Agent Fitz doing?" Andrew asked eventually.
"He has good days and bad days. He's better than he was, but I guess that's just time. It's been a tough month for him. Simmons has barely left his side; neither has Mack. We're all doing our bit." Coulson explained, unable to look Andrew in the eye.
"…And you blame yourself?" Andrew speculated.
"Of course I do."
"Why?"
"Because it was my fault. Fitz was braver than me and yet he paid the price. He saved me; he's the hero and yet he's the one who lost something." Coulson admitted sadly.
"He made the choice to save his Director. You had no control over the vents. If anyone should be blamed it's this Maya Anderson woman." Andrew said.
"Rage. Rage did it, not Maya. I'm not sure she can control her actions when transformed." Coulson said.
"Even so, we should agree that the blame should not be placed on you, Coulson." Andrew said.
"I knew bullets couldn't stop it yet shot at it anyway; I gave it more ammo to use against us. I risked my whole damn team with next to no plan. I'd have never done that a few years back. I don't know what's wrong with me." Coulson sighed.
"I read the file on this Inhuman. If it could manipulate Agent Hunter, perhaps it's done the same to you? Got inside your head?" Andrew suggested.
"Maybe, but I don't want to think that." Coulson said.
"Why not?"
"Because I'm tired of shifting the blame all the time."
"I'm not sure I understand." Andrew said. Coulson took a moment.
"Do you know why I'm happy to take the blame? Because that way no one else has to feel that burden. Guilt is the heaviest weight for anyone to hold." Coulson explained.
"We all have guilt; there's no way of sparing someone of that." Andrew said.
"I know, but I save my agents from what I can. Fitz can barely get out of bed by himself or reach his desk whereas I can freely walk about this plane like nothing's happened. That's not fair and that's on me." Coulson said.
"You look exhausted, Phil."
"I am exhausted. I'm exhausted all the time. Maybe I'm too old for this. Maybe I should just retire? Go on vacation to somewhere hot?" Coulson said.
"Tahiti?" Andrew suggested with a smirk.
"Tahiti." Coulson nodded with a muffled chuckle.
"I can prescribe some medication for you; you need to get a lot of sleep." Andrew said calmly.
"I don't have the time. It's been a month and Maya and Rage have both vanished from the radar. We have nothing to go on. A month gone by and I've got a HQ no closer to being rebuilt, a shaken team, a broken scientist and no leads. Even R.E.S.C.U.E. seemed to have disappeared according to a very angry President I spoke to last week." Coulson said, his head in his hands.
"You've faced problems like this time and time again. S.H.I.E.L.D. always finds a way. YOU always find a way." Andrew stated.
"We've always found a way, but I think they've chiselled away at me. I started out a boulder and now I'm barely a pebble." Coulson said.
"You're wondering how much more you can take?" Andrew asked.
"Yeah. I've let everyone down with R.E.S.C.U.E. and Maya and Rage. All I've brought the team is destruction and pain. I've ruined them." Coulson groaned.
"This is their job, and their choice."
"And they're doing their jobs better than I am. They've called me out a few times recently, and they were right to. Maybe…maybe I'm just not cut out for this anymore. Maya fooled me. The world is counting on us to find Rage and stop it but we can't even find it." Coulson admitted.
"This guilt you feel is overwhelming you." Andrew said.
"I know it is, but I can't help that. I deserve the guilt I feel."
Andrew spent a few moments looking into Coulson's dazed, bloodshot eyes before switching off the tape recorder.
"I shouldn't let you continue work, but at the same time getting this job done might be the only way of curing your underlying feelings of guilt. You need to look past them and use them to fuel the fire inside of you to get this done. Even if you can't believe in yourself just yet, believe in your team." Andrew said.
"…You're right. I'll get this done. Even if it's my last mission. Even if it kills me." Coulson nodded.
"I'll get you some medication to help you sleep. Possibly some kind of anti-depressant. I've seen you at your worst Phil, and you're not there yet. You're not at that point where I can't recognise you. This isn't for you what Bahrain was to Melinda." Andrew said.
"…Maybe." Coulson whispered.
Andrew leant over the desk and placed a hand on Coulson's shoulder.
"I'm gonna stick around for a few days, if that's alright? Keep an eye on everyone. Simmons asked me to talk to Fitz." Andrew said.
"Good idea. It might keep Melinda off my back too." Coulson smirked.
"Because she'll be on mine instead? Yeah, wonderful." Andrew smiled, shaking Coulson's hand.
"I firmly believe you'll find a way, Phil." Andrew added.
"Thank you." Coulson smiled gently.
…
"There you go, Turbo. That should stop the squeaky wheel." Mack smiled as he sat with Fitz in his workshop.
"Thanks, Mack." Fitz said.
"Jemma won't be happy. She probably liked being able to track your movements." Mack chuckled.
"Yeah. Probably." Fitz smiled slightly.
"Fitz, you know if I could have traded places with you that day I -"
"-Please, don't. I don't want people feeling sorry for me. I know you all don't think I'm strong enough to handle this." Fitz sighed.
"We all know you're strong enough, Turbo, but that doesn't mean we want you to go through this." Mack said.
"I know. I'm sorry."
"Me too."
Jemma rushed in, smiling at the two men.
"Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt."
"No problem, Simmons, I was just fixing the chair for him." Mack said.
"Sorry, I'll head back to the lab now." Fitz said.
"Okay. Your mum was phoning after you, that's all." Jemma smiled.
"Of course. Okay, let's go." Fitz said, Jemma rolling him out of the room and waving to Mack as they went.
After a few minutes of silence heading down the corridor, Jemma had a thought that made her smile.
"It's a good workout for your arms, using the chair isn't it? Your arms are going to get huge." Jemma smirked.
"…Yeah, they'll be bigger than Mack's soon enough." Fitz smiled cheekily, making Jemma giggle.
"I'm sorry about earlier, Jemma." Fitz sighed.
"Don't worry about it, honestly. I understand things must be hard for you, but you do know I'll be there for you every single step of the way?" Jemma asked, stopping and kneeling in front of Fitz with a warm smile.
"I know. I'm lucky to have you."
"I'm lucky to have you." Jemma smiled, kissing Fitz on the cheek. They stared at one another for a moment before Jemma stood up and carried on pushing Fitz along the corridor, their guts telling them that despite everything, things were going to be okay.
…
THE NOT TOO DISTANT FUTURE…
"This isn't okay. We need to do something."
"What do you expect me to do? Except any of us to do? We can't bring them back. It breaks my heart, but we can't." Coulson said sadly.
"We can get revenge. We can kill them."
"I don't know how." Coulson sighed, his head in his hands.
"We'll find a way. We have to."
They walked out, leaving Coulson alone with the darkest of thoughts.
