Chapter One.

Fitz looked across at his friend. Simmons was curled in a ball in the hospital chair, a blanket wrapped around her knees. She had fallen asleep with her head resting on her closed fist; a position which Fitz thought looked decidedly uncomfortable. He crinkled his forehead into a frown, unsure whether to let he sleep on or wake her and tell her to go to a proper bed. His decision was made for him when she groaned quietly and arched her back into a stretch.

"Oh, you're awake," Jemma smiled at him sleepily and stretched her arms above her head, fighting a yawn. "Sorry, I'd have tried to stay awake if I'd have known you were going to wake up."

"S'ok." Fitz knew she needed sleep. Jemma had been spending every evening by his bedside since he'd woken from the coma eight days ago, and he suspected she'd done the same before that too. She had been in the lab for most of the day today; a lab which he hadn't yet seen. He enjoyed her excited chatter about the progress she had been making on gathering the necessary equipment (evidently the laboratory had been poorly stocked), but at the same time he felt guilty for keeping her there with him. Although the rest of the team visited, it was always Jemma who arrived early in the morning before he woke, again for an hour at lunchtime, and then again in the evening, often staying until after he had fallen asleep. He sometimes wondered if she felt guilty for not being there when he had woken up the first time.

Fitz's memories of those early days were hazy; however he vividly remembered opening his eyes to the strange white room, with dry lips, a sore throat and a pounding headache. The lights had been too bright and the noises from the medical apparatus around him had been too loud. He had panicked, having no idea where he was or what was going on, and he didn't recognise any of the doctors who suddenly surrounded his bed. He'd tried to ask who they were but had been unable to form the words; his tongue felt too big in his mouth and he was only able to murmur incoherently. He'd tried to rip the IV from his arm, but was pinned down by a muscled male nurse. It was only when a blur of white lab coat, dishevelled brown hair and hazel eyes materialised next to him that he had become to calm down. Jemma was here. That meant it was ok.

Fitz watched as Jemma rubbed her eyes and rearranged the blanket across her legs, her feet now resting on the edge of his bed. "You feel ok?" she asked.

"Mm hm," Fitz nodded. He paused, thinking about the words he wanted to say. "Did you... sleep w..." he frowned in frustration and looked at her apologetically.

"Yes thank you," Jemma smiled at him. "You know me, I can sleep anywhere. So can you for that matter; do you remember when we were at the Academy and we used to fall asleep in the lab? One time you spent half the night with your face in your toolbox! That can't have been comfortable!"

He smiled, nodding at the memory. She kept bringing up little stories like that from the past, and lit up every time he showed he remembered. She was beaming now, and her wide smile and warm eyes caused a peculiar butterfly sensation to rise in his chest.

Jemma paused, as though expecting him to say something. His speech was slow and effortful, and a few minutes conversation made him tired. He found the flight of Jemma's thoughts and ideas exhausting to keep up with, but at the same time her voice and presence was soothing. His favourite times were when Jemma spoke to someone else by his bed, like Skye or Tripp. Then he didn't need to focus on the words or follow the conversation, he could just listen to the musical lilt of her accent and watch her face between half closed eyes.

Jemma seemed to realise that he couldn't always follow her. He noticed that she would speak more slowly when she spoke to him, and she left long pauses. Although he was grateful, it frustrated him that she needed to make allowances like that- he hated that he couldn't keep up with her brilliant mind. It was only when she was excited that she would forget and start to ramble, only pausing when he failed to finish her sentences.

A knock at the door stole their attention, and Skye poke her head around. "Well, if it isn't FitzSimmons! Fancy seeing you here." The last remark was directed towards Jemma, who rolled her eyes.

"Hello Skye," Fitz nodded a smile at their friend. Skye seemed to have made it her mission to keep an eye on Jemma, and Fitz was glad she had someone looking out for her.

"Did she fall asleep in here again?" The hacker looked from Fitz to the biochemist accusingly.

Fitz nodded as Jemma huffed. "Skye it was just a nap. I don't intend to stay here all night."

"Well you told me that yesterday but you were still down here at 2:30am."

Fitz shot a glance at Jemma and noticed the colour rise in her cheeks. She opened her mouth as if to protest but seemed to think better of it.

"How are you anyway?" Skye diverted her attention towards Fitz as she perched on the edge of his bed.

"Good. Not so... tired."

"Great," she leaned across and rubbed a hand on his good arm. "It will be nice to have you upstairs with us."

Fitz wondered what "upstairs" was like. Since arriving at the Playground he had seen the inside of exactly three rooms (this one, the bathroom and a room with an MRI scanner), and a long, brightly lit corridor. None of the rooms had any windows. He was still spending most of his time in bed, with short periods sat up in the chair Jemma currently occupied. Jemma had mentioned possibly going upstairs in the wheelchair tomorrow.

He felt his eyes droop and Jemma and Skye began talking excitedly about something he didn't understand. Something about a black box? What was that? He felt Jemma's hand rest lightly on his arm as he drifted off to sleep.