"Well, since you're going to be here for a while, someone needs to get groceries," Agent Dalton said after completing his tour of a small SHIELD facility in Oregon. Agents Coulson, May, Simmons, Fitz, and Johnson were all there for an assignment. It was disguised as a ranger station that was restricted to the public, and sat in the trees, just a mile down a dirt road from the highway.
"Sure, Agent Dalton," Jemma Simmons replied, "who's going to do it?" The rest of Coulson's team, who had settled in to the couches in the common area they were in, went silent.
Agent Dalton chuckled. "Well, we usually make the visitors do the shopping…"
"Sounds good. Fitz, make a grocery list with Dalton and then go out to the nearest supermarket," Melinda May commanded.
"But… but… but…" replied Fitz.
"Sorry, Fitz, May has spoken," said Coulson. Fitz sighed and stood up, following Dalton to the kitchen counter where he got out a piece of paper and a pen and handed it to Fitz.
"By the way, I hope you all enjoy your time here at SHIELD's Douglas Fir Station!" Dalton cheerfully exclaimed. Fitz then consulted with him on the grocery list, and five minutes later he was in a car, pulling out on to the highway.
"Why do they always make me run the errands? I might not be a field agent or a medic or whatever, but why me? It's always, 'oh, hey, Fitz! Go do a Safeway run will ya? You aren't needed right now. Oh, and don't forget the coffee, Fitz. The good stuff. If you come back with Maxwell House you're going back and buying all of us some sweets to make up for it.' Seriously!" Grumbled Fitz to himself.
Twenty-five minutes later, he parked the car at the small Kroger store in the nearby town and sighed as he pulled out the list, got a cart and went inside. An hour later, he came out with a full cart and started stuffing the SUV with all the groceries. It was around 6pm. The gang would probably want dinner soon if they haven't made it already.
Fitz drove out of the small town and turned back on to the highway. When I get back, I'm going to settle in and have a relaxing evening. Yes, that's what I'll do. After radioing the SHIELD station that he was coming back, he continued on the lonely road, humming to himself.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a large pickup truck was heading straight for him. Fitz panicked and swerved to try and avoid a head-on collision, but he ended up moving too fast. Before he had time to process, the car went tumbling off the road.
He was smashed against the car door multiple times as broken glass rained down on him. When the rolling was over, he found himself upside-down on his side, still strapped in, hurting in many places. His vision was getting dark around him, he was hyperventilating, and he felt like he was thrown into a bin of broken bottles. He whimpered as he tried to reach for his seatbelt. Once he hit the release, however, he fell out of the broken side window, being cut by the glass in the process, and felt the shocking cold of the river that ran along the highway. He paddled frantically to the surface as the current dragged him violently downstream.
He gasped and coughed forcefully as he came above the water and attempted to float the best he could. It felt as if his body was being frozen, and his blood was being replaced with liquid nitrogen. Desperately lunging forward, he attempted to grab on to a log floating nearby, but ended up just diving under the water. When he came back up, he found himself being pulled by a side current. He tried desperately to escape it but was too weak. Luckily, that current made him get hung up in a shallow part of the river, so he slowly crawled onto the shore and coughed up the water he swallowed. He looked at his arm and cringed when he saw that it was cut up and bleeding from the broken glass. He started to shiver.
The evening was coming, and the chill of an Oregon night in the early fall blew in. Fitz didn't move. He was just cold and in pain.
After laying there for a few minutes, feeling his shivering intensify, he heard the sound of a car. He looked at his bleeding arm once again and realized that he was still wearing his SHIELD-issued watch, which was waterproof. Maybe they had found him through its tracking device.
"Fitz! Fitz? Where are you? If you can here me, call out!" He heard Simmons shout. He tried his best to call back to her, but he felt so weak from being dunked in the water and losing blood that it came out as more of a whimper. "I'm right here…" he cried, "Simmons… I can hear you…"
"I think heard something. Over there," said Skye. Leo laid there trying to get his dizziness under control and attempted to cry out again.
"Simmons! I'm right here!" He shouted a little louder. As he heard the footsteps come closer, he noticed the terrible shivering running through his achy, weak body. "Simmons… help me…" Leo groaned as he felt the weak feeling overcome him.
"Fitz! Oh, Fitz, you're going to be alright. I'm here now," he heard Jemma say as her voice got nice and close. She gently turned him face up, which caused Leo to wince. He looked up at her with his eyes half open. Her hands were warm and she had a relieved, kind look on her face. He suddenly felt very grateful for being rescued and started to cry, releasing the tension from his traumatic experience in the river now that he was safe.
"Oh, you poor thing," said Jemma, gently shushing him, "you're okay. I'm going to patch you up and take care of you." Fitz tried to respond but it came out as overwhelmed blubbering.
"Coulson? I need your help carrying the stretcher. It's a two-man job," said Simmons. She carefully rolled Fitz onto the stretcher and began to examine him with a flashlight.
"He's really scratched up, not to mention cold and wet. Let's get the poor guy back to HQ," She said to Coulson. Fitz then felt himself lift off the ground as he was carried back to the SHIELD vehicle. Once he was there Simmons and Coulson lifted him onto a wheeled stretcher that was then rolled into the back of the van.
"Dalton, I need you to get him back to the station quickly. Coulson, come here. Get out a blanket. Pass me some of that antiseptic and some gauze. He's bleeding all over," ordered Jemma. She then turned to Fitz and gently covered him with the soft blanket.
"There, that's nice and warm, isn't it? I'm just going to take care of your arm now, it's all scratched up." Fitz winced as she applied an alcohol-soaked cotton ball to the large gash on his arm. He clenched his teeth as she attempted to clean it out. It stung horribly.
"Stop… stop… it hurts…" Fitz whimpered, trying to pull his injured arm away.
"I know it hurts, but I need to clean it out. Hold still. Dalton, where are we at?"
"We'll be there in under ten minutes," replied Agent Dalton.
"Alright. Coulson, I need you to check his pulse while I take care of Fitz's arm." Coulson nodded and gently took Leo's other wrist and felt for a pulse. Fitz felt comforted as he saw the caring smile of Coulson above him. He was still shivering but he knew that he was now safe.
"We're here! I'll direct you guys to the infirmary," said Agent Dalton as he parked the van at the Douglas Fir Station. Fitz was quickly brought inside and transferred from the stretcher to a hospital bed. The room was chilly and clinical feeling, but it did have wood panelled walls and rather cozy lighting, except for the bright medical lamp above him. He was still shivering like crazy.
"Coulson, I need you to get Fitz some dry sweatpants and a t shirt. I'll get the blankets," Simmons said.
"Simmons? I'm still really cold…" said Fitz weakly.
"I know, sweetie, just hold on. We'll get you out of those wet clothes in just a moment. What happened?"
"The car rolled off the road… into the river…" Fitz suddenly gasped.
"What? What is it? What's wrong?" Asked Simmons.
"The groceries… I lost the groceries…" he whimpered, "and I destroyed the car! Oh, Simmons, I'm so sorry…"
Simmons couldn't help but laugh. "Fitz…" she said in a kind voice, "that doesn't matter! What matters at the moment is getting you warm and tending to your injuries. Here, put this thermometer under your tongue." When the thermometer beeped, the result showed that Fitz was mildly hypothermic, just as she had expected. Coulson came back with Fitz's clothes and a young agent in a buttoned-up SHIELD lab coat.
"Here's the clothes, Simmons. This is Agent Wright, he's the one with the highest level of medical training here at Douglas Fir. He'll assist you," said Coulson.
"Nice to meet you, Agent Wright. I'm Agent Simmons," she said to him. Fitz watched as they shook hands, then quickly got down to business. The two of them carefully helped him out of his still soaking wet clothes, towel dried him, and helped him into the dry outfit. It felt wonderful. Jemma covered him with several warm blankets. The weight and warmth calmed him down further, and he could hear the beep slow down on the EKG.
"Now, just lay back, Fitz. I'm here to assist Simmons. I'm just going to stitch up that cut on your arm," said Agent Wright in a calm voice, "Simmons, will you hand me a lidocaine syringe, 200 milligrams… two percent?" Fitz closed his eyes and put his trust in the medics.
"Fitz… you're really tense," he heard Jemma say as Agent Wright took his arm and started cleaning the area around the wound, "just relax, okay? Just breathe. You're not letting yourself breathe." Leo nodded and tried to relax, taking slow, deep breaths.
"Now, this will sting upon injection," Wright explained calmly, "but after you won't feel a thing, alright, buddy?" Fitz nodded. He didn't want to open his eyes. He found himself clenching his teeth again in anticipation of the needle. This prompted Jemma to remind him to breathe.
"Mind if I put my hand on your chest? To feel your breathing?" She asked. Fitz just nodded, opening his eyes a little to see her wearing her headlamp and lab coat. Her hand was warm and comforting to Fitz, and he felt himself relax when she laid it on him. She guided his breathing as Wright proceeded to inject the anesthetic, which did sting quite a bit, but quickly went away.
Fitz opened his eyes and tried to sit up and see what Wright was doing across the room, but Jemma gently laid him back down. "He's just getting the sutures ready. You're alright, Fitz, you're doing great."
Fitz barely felt a thing as the wound on his arm was stitched up. Jemma finished taking care of some scratches Fitz had and monitored his condition. Fitz could feel himself get stronger and more alert as his temperature rose. When he gathered enough strength to sit upright, Jemma gave him some warm chicken broth in a mug.
"Your temperature is pretty much at a normal level," said Jemma, reading from the thermometer she used on Fitz, now three hours after he was brought in, "but that doesn't mean you're going to do anything crazy yet, even if you're feeling well. I'm putting you on R&R for the rest of the night."
"Simmons, it's only 9pm! I don't want to go to bed at 9pm! I'm feeling better!" Leo protested, sitting on the edge of his bed.
"Oh, no, I was not saying you had to go to bed. Just… take it easy. Watch a movie," clarified Jemma.
"I wanted to do that before I went out to get the groceries…" grumbled Fitz, "but fine… I'll watch a movie…"
"Oh, Fitz, are you still feeling bad about the groceries?" Jemma asked, sitting down beside him.
He looked at her in the eyes. "A little…" he said awkwardly.
"Fitz… this is not your fault. Don't dwell on it. What matters is that we found you. You know what? I'll make sure you never have to do a grocery run alone ever again."
"You promise?" Fitz asked with a chuckle.
"I swear it on my really expensive lab equipment."
"You're so weird, Simmons. Let's go watch a film. Sorry the microwave popcorn is in the river now," he said as he stood up and headed for the door.
Jemma laughed. "I'm sure there's something in the pantry we can snack on."