A/N: I hope this story isn't too confusing. I've written the days out of order on purpose, so it's like an emotional roller coaster instead of just going from sad to happy; they're glimpses into Fitz's recovery, and the only ones that I have fixed are day 130 (which is where we start, but where the story ends) and day 1 (which is where we end, but obviously is where the story starts). If anything doesn't make sense at the moment, or people suddenly pop up and you wonder where they've come from, don't worry, because all will be explained in future segments. Now, it's been a very long time since I've written fan-fiction (I didn't think I would ever again, to be honest, but FitzSimmons inspired me too much!), so I hope it's okay, and while I've tried my best to catch any spelling and grammar mistakes, please let me know if you spot any - I've got an illness that affects my concentration and tires me easily, so I may very well have missed things - it's taken me ages to write this story and get it up, but it's mostly all written, so it shouldn't be too much of a wait for the next chapter (and I won't be writing for every single day up to day 130, I'll just be dipping in and out). I hope it's also not too OOC! Oh, and I'm British, and obviously I've written them as British because, well, they are, so if there's anything you don't understand, just give me a shout :)

Sorry, that was longer than I intended! Enough rambling - enjoy, and please leave a review if you feel inclined :)

DAY 130

She's so proud of him. A little over four months ago he was still in a coma fighting for his life, and while he still struggles on occasion, he's achieved so much. Today is his twenty-eighth birthday, a day that she wasn't even sure he would see not that long ago, and she's planned an extra-special day for him, with plenty of scheduled rest breaks, and a small party in the evening - he doesn't know about any of it.

Jemma looks at him and smiles. They're still in bed - a well-deserved lie-in - and she's on her side, studying him, his messy curls, how his eyelashes brush his skin (and honestly, how unfair is it that his eyelashes are that long?), the curve of his jaw, the morning stubble that roughens his usually baby-soft skin, his cheekbones, his smile... Wait.

"Stop watching me sleep, you weirdo."

Jemma laughs, and Fitz opens his eyes and grins at her.

"Happy birthday, old man."

He closes his eyes and grabs her around the waist, pulling her too him. "Less of the old, thank you. We're the same age."

"Almost," she says, cuddling against him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "But for a couple more months I'm going to enjoy the fact that I can still tell people I'm twenty-seven."

Fitz pouts, seemingly ignoring her. "Is that all I get?"

She laughs again and presses her mouth to his. He's warm and sleepy and she thinks for a moment that they could just stay like this all day, but she knows he'll love what she's got planned - tacos for lunch and then the zoo. It's a bit of a drive away from the Playground, but it'll be entirely worth it. She just hopes he'll like the party, too.

"Mmm, that's better," he murmurs against her. Then he opens his eyes again, grins again, cheekily this time. "So," he bumps his nose against hers, "as it's my birthday..." he winks at her, and she knows exactly what he's after, not that she minds, not when he starts kissing her like that.

xxxx

"SURPRISE!"

Fitz jumps, startled by the sudden noise, but when Jemma looks at him she sees a face that's completely overwhelmed, an open-mouthed smile and shining eyes, and it's then that she knows that this was definitely worth it.

It's not been easy keeping it a secret from him, and it has especially not been easy for Skye. When it comes to being an agent, the hacker is a pro at secret-keeping - but planning Fitz's birthday party has been something else entirely. Whenever they've been in the same room she's looked at him with barely contained glee, and Jemma's lost count of the amount of times she's thrown glares her way to get her to calm down.

"Happy birthday!" Skye throws her arms around him and hugs him tight.

"So this is why you've been bounding around me like a puppy for the last few weeks," Fitz grins, hugging her back.

Skye looks affronted. "I have not."

"Yes you have," Coulson chimes in, reaching out to shake Fitz's hand. Then he changes his mind and pulls him into a hug instead. "Happy birthday, Fitz."

"Thank you, sir," Fitz says, more than a little touched, and then he's laughing as Coulson pulls back and addresses the entire group.

"No one saw that."

"Aww, AC!"

Coulson stares pointedly at Skye. "It's DC, now."

"Hmm, no, that doesn't sound right. AC sounds way cooler."

May and Trip get their turns to give Fitz their best wishes, and then the music is turned on, drinks are poured, and soon everyone is chatting and laughing and playing silly games and eating birthday cake, and it's just how Jemma wanted it, how she knew Fitz would want it. Just their little team, on the Bus, away from the now manic activity of the Playground. No, not their little team - their family.

When Jemma had broached the subject of throwing Fitz a surprise party for his birthday a few weeks before, everyone had instantly been on board. After everything, he deserved it. Skye and Trip had spent the afternoon decorating the lounge area of the plane and sorting out the food and drink, and when she and Fitz had returned from their afternoon out, he'd had just enough time to Skype his mother before Coulson had rounded them all up for a "mission".

"Jem?"

Jemma looks up to see shining blue eyes dancing in front of her.

"Thank you for today, and for all this." Fitz pulls her into his arms and gives her a kiss. They're off-duty, so she takes advantage of this by winding her arms around his neck.

"You deserve it," she smiles. "After everything..."

"But even so, you didn't have to. I'd have been just as happy doing our usual dinner/movie/bar routine."

"I know," she lifts a hand to smooth his curls, "but everyone wanted to do this for you, it wasn't just me - I just came up with the idea." Her eyes flicker closed briefly as Fitz presses a kiss to her forehead.

"Well, it's one of your best."

"Huh. I don't know whether to be insulted or pleased by that," she teases.

He grins at her.

"Hey, look what I've got!"

They turn to see Skye holding up a box with 'Twister' written on the front.

"Oh, brilliant!" Fitz exclaims, walking towards her. "It's been ages since I've played this. In fact, I think it was back at the Academy, that party that started in one dorm and spread to three others, remember, Jem?" He turns to her with a mischievous smile. "You were so drunk." He turns back to the others. "You've never seen Simmons drunk, have you? She's hilarious. This one time-" but he's cut off when Jemma slaps a hand over his mouth.

"Don't you dare."

"It's all right, Fitz, you can tell us later," Trip grins.

"No, he can't," Jemma says, trying to sound stern, but she starts laughing so doesn't quite manage it. Still, she'd rather they didn't know about that little incident.

Twister is set up, and Coulson grabs the spinner before May gets to it and absolutely refuses to hand it over, and Skye teases him over it, promising it'll all stay between their little group if he plays, but he won't budge.

"All right then, let's get this over with," May says, stretching her arms.

Jemma pulls Fitz to one side for a moment, but she should have known he'd know what she was going to say just by the look on her face.

"I'll be fine," he says, smiling softly at her. "I promise I'll stop if I'm not".

"All right," she says, because it's his birthday and she doesn't want to be an overprotective, nagging girlfriend. She can't help that she worries, but he's certainly stronger than he was a few months ago.

With five of them playing, the game doesn't actually last very long. They all get tangled together quite quickly, and surprisingly it's Trip who falls on his backside first. He tries to blame May, but she's not having any of it.

"You lack focus, deal with it."

"Oh, oh, no, them be fighting words. How about I train with you tomorrow morning, and then we'll see who lacks focus."

"Be my guest."

Skye looks up at him, blowing her hair out of her eyes. "It's been nice knowing you, Trip."

"She's right," Coulson adds. "You're toast." He spins the wheel again. "Jemma, right hand red."

"Oh, God, no..." Jemma twists herself almost unnaturally, but, by some miracle, just manages to reach across. "Yes!"

"Well, we'll see about that," Trip says confidently, pushing his beer to one side and grabbing a bottle of water. He gives May a toothy grin. "Prep starts now."

Soon, there's only Jemma and May left, and she's more than a little surprised that she's lasted this long. Fitz had been second to leave the game, although he'd put in a mighty effort and hadn't seemed too disappointed when he'd had to sit out. Skye had unbalanced herself when trying to reach for a blue circle too far away from her, and Jemma knew she would be next - there was no way she was going to beat May, who was currently in a crab position but with one leg crossed over the other. It looks hugely uncomfortable, but the agent herself seems quite serene. It's grossly unfair. And she's right, because her next move sends her toppling forward, and she yelps and then laughs as she lands in a sprawl across the mat.

"Finally!" May exclaims, effortlessly untangling herself and jumping up.

"Well done, May - you get an extra piece of cake," Skye says.

"Give it to the birthday boy - I need a drink."

xxxx

Fitz is exhausted. He's trying not to let it show, but he's failing miserably - he's practically falling asleep on her as they walk back to his room. She holds him up as best she can. "God, you're a lump," she smiles, glancing at him affectionately.

"Rude," Fitz mumbles, his eyes half-closed. "Are you staying again?"

"I probably shouldn't, but as it's your birthday I'm sure no one will mind."

"Sleep time's off-duty anyway..."

"I know, but it's not just our team here, now - the place is filling up."

"'S all right, they won'... care..."

Jemma rubs his arm. "Come on, don't fall asleep on me yet, we're nearly there."

"'K..."

She manages to get Fitz back to his room and onto his bed, where he promptly passes out. She chuckles a little and shakes her head fondly at him. She takes off his shoes and jeans without causing even a stir from him, but decides that his shirt is too much effort and leaves it on him. She pulls the covers over him, then gets herself ready for bed before sliding in beside him. She's almost asleep when a sleepy, barely coherent voice rouses her.

"Jem... Love you..."

She doesn't think she'll ever get tired of hearing that. She reaches out in the dark for Fitz's hand and brings it to her lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. "I love you, too."

DAY 19

Jemma feels ridiculous. Not because she's holding up flash cards more suited to a three-year-old, but because the look on Fitz's face is so heartbreaking - he's trying so hard to name what is on the card, trying to get his brain to communicate with his mouth, his tongue, his larynx, and the guilt washing over her as she watches him struggle is making it so hard not to cry. But she has to do it. He has to keep trying. The more he tries, the more of a chance he has. She turns the cards around and shuffles through them for a moment, then smiles when she finds what she's looking for: the monkey.

She turns the card around, eyes boring into his knowingly as she does. She sees his lips twitch a little in amusement, but she also knows that he's exhausted - this will be the last one for today, and she knows he can do it. She watches as he moves his mouth to form the word, his lips pressed together to form the first sound. His expression is determined.

"Mmm-"

Jemma smiles encouragingly, trying to communicate that he's doing well, that he's so close, that's she so proud...

"M-on..."

Her smile grows bigger, and she doesn't want to put him off with how hopeful she knows she looks, but she can't help it.

"...Key. Mon-key."

Elated, Jemma tosses the cards to one side and grabs his hands, pressing kisses them. "Yes! And the rest will follow now, you'll see. I promise."

Once the cards are packed away, once she's made sure he's settled and thinks he's asleep, she makes her way to the door, whispering to him to have sweet dreams and that she'll be back tomorrow. She's almost through it when she hears his voice again.

"...Jem... Th-ank... You..."

She smiles at him. "You never have to thank me, Fitz," she says, trying to keep her voice steady. Once she is out the door, Jemma bursts into tears.

DAY 8

"Simmons, go take some time for yourself. You need a rest".

"I'm fine, Sir, honestly."

"It's not a request, it's an order," Coulson says, softly, his eyes kind. "Fitz will be fine, and if anything happens, I'll call you."

Jemma nods in defeat. "There are a few things I need to get, and I suppose a change of scenery would be nice." She's trying to sound brave - she knows Coulson is only concerned, but she really doesn't want to be too far from Fitz. A few hours might be the best she can manage.

She takes one of the cars and drives to the nearest town. The weather is pleasant and bright, too cheerful for her current mood, which saddens her further, because she's a naturally cheerful person - unless her best friend is in a coma.

Jemma parks up and scans the area. Her eyes land on a hair salon, and she wonders if they might be able to fit her in. Isn't that what people say to do when you're feeling low, change your hair? She supposes it could do with a trim, anyway, so she climbs out of the car and heads over. As luck would have it, considering how busy it seems, they can fit her in in an hour, so she decides to waste time by having a look around the shops. A toy store catches her eye, and an idea flashes through her head. She makes her way inside, winding her way through over-excited groups of children until she finds the section she's looking for. She scans the shelves of soft toys and then her eyes land on what she's looking for and she smiles, reaching out a grab a cute, ginger, cuddly monkey. "Yes, you're perfect," she whispers, before making her way over to the counter to pay.

She stops by a few other places, stocking up on what she needs, then makes her way back to the salon. An hour later, she steps back out feeling a little lighter. A trim had turned into a few good inches and some shorter layers, and she feels refreshed, but she's itching to get back, so she decides that'll do for today and heads back to the base.

A little while later, she's tucking the toy monkey in beside Fitz and smiling down at him. His mother is asleep in the chair next to the bed, so she tucks herself up on the sofa on the other side of the room and watches the gentle rise and fall of Fitz's chest, the steady beeping of machines reminding her that he's alive, and there's hope.

DAY 51

"Oh, my God, Fitz, that's amazing! Well done." As soon as she's said it, Simmons scrunches her face up. "It's really hard to say that without sounding patronising, isn't it?"

Fitz gives her a tired smile, his breathing heavy as if he's just run a marathon. He's just managed to slowly walk the length of the walking bars by only holding onto one of them, his left arm still not healed enough to be taken out of plaster, and at first, his doctor tried very hard to talk him out of it.

Jemma takes hold of his arm and helps him to sit. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," he replies, still trying to catch his breath. "It helps to see this as a blip. In years to come, I'll look back on this and realise just how small a part of my life it was. I mean, it's a huge thing to have happened, and it could have been much, much worse, but if it's just a year or so out of my whole life, that's not so bad, is it?"

"That's the spirit." She looks at his arm. "Another couple of weeks, and that can come off. No more me helping to stick things down it to scratch an itch."

Fitz chuckles and glances at his well-decorated cast. It's his second one. The first one ended up in the bin, which Skye had been disappointed by after spending time doodling on it and writing funny phrases. He'd pulled a disgusted face at her, pointing out that it was unhygienic to keep it, telling her that this one would be going to same way. He'd let her photograph it instead. It was full of messages and good wishes, sketches, and even the odd game of noughts and crosses. "I can't wait to get rid of the damn thing."

"At least when it was changed Doctor Scott said the breaks were healing well."

"Hmmm. I'm still not convinced it will be as good as it was. Being broken in the same two places twice won't do it any favours. But we'll see. As long as I can work, that's the main thing."

"And you will."

They're silent for a moment.

"Jemma?"

"Yes?"

Fitz looks up at her, a light blush colouring his cheeks. "I really owe you, you know."

Simmons crouches down next to him and takes his hand in both of hers, feeling how warm he is after his exertions. "You don't owe me anything - I'm your best friend. And you'd do the same for me."

"Still..."

"Tell you what, when you're better you can buy me a drink, or three," she says, her eyes sparkling.

"I think I can manage that".

DAY 5

Jemma twists her hands nervously as she waits at arrivals, her eyes scanning the crowds as they pour through. She's met Fitz's mum before, of course, even speaks to her on the phone to assure her that her son is fine, that he's eating well, that he's not driving Jemma up the wall. That last bit always makes her laugh, and she's usually still laughing when she hands the phone back to a sulking Fitz.

But now he's not fine, his body is getting nourishment through a tube, and she wishes, more than anything in the world, that he were driving her up the wall.

Jemma finally spots her, looking tired and drawn and dragging her suitcase behind her like it weighs more than the entire universe. She makes her way over to her, and when Mrs Fitz sees her, the older woman starts to cry and engulfes Jemma in a huge hug, which she returns just as fiercely. When they break apart, Mrs Fitz puts a hand to Jemma's face, gently tracing over her bruises. "Oh, you poor darling," she says, her lovely, lilting accent breaking as she speaks, and Jemma gives her a brave smile.

"I'm fine, Helen. He saved my life."

Helen nods, her arms still around the young agent, the girl who she knows her boy holds high above everyone and everything else. He didn't need to tell his dear old mum how he felt about Jemma Simmons - she already knew. "And you saved his. Thank God for you."

Jemma is uncomfortable with the praise, because she's only alive because of him, and there was no way in hell she would have left him behind, even if he'd already been... She shakes off the thought before it breaks her, and instead takes Helen's arm and guides her to the exit where a car is waiting.

"Has there been any change since we spoke yesterday?" Helen asks, hopeful but realistic at the same time.

Jemma shakes her head and looks at her apologetically. "None. But he's stable, and that's the best we can hope for right now." And it certainly was, because yesterday, for exactly forty-four seconds, Fitz had died. His heart had stopped, his blood had ceased to circulate, and he'd been clinically dead. Having to call Helen later that evening to tell her had been harrowing to say the least.

The car has blacked out windows. Helen might be the mother of a heroic agent, but S.H.I.E.L.D., especially new S.H.I.E.L.D., can't take any chances with anyone outside of the organisation knowing the whereabouts of their new base. It's to protect her as much as it is them. So she sits in the back with Jemma, while Billy, who insisted on driving, takes them back to the Playground.

When they arrive, quick introductions are made, Coulson placing a comforting hand on Helen's arm whilst telling her again how brave her son was and that they'll do everything they can to make sure he recovers. Then Jemma takes her straight through to the medical unit. Helen sobs when she sees him.

"Oh, Leo. Oh, my baby boy." She settles by his side and takes his hand in both of hers while leaning over to press a kiss to his hair. "I'm here, little one."

Jemma has to leave the room before she cries again. Fitz would sometimes grumble at his mother's term of endearment, but he had never made her stop. They were so close - Fitz's beloved dad had died when he was nine, the victim of a tragic hit-and-run. He had grandparents, of course, and aunts and uncles and cousins, but he'd clung to his mother and done everything he could to make her happy, to see her smile again. Fitz has told her various stories from his childhood over the years, but he's only ever spoken of his father a handful of times. Jemma knows that his death still affects Fitz deeply, knows that his mother was understandably beside herself with grief, and she can't now lose her only child as well. Fitz has fought hard to be where he is now, not just for himself, not just to make his mother proud, but also to honour his father's memory. The shy boy Jemma had met at the Academy had slowly opened himself up to her - she'd been honoured to gain his trust, to see his confidence grow, to witness his genius, to experience his compassion and loyalty, his good and bad days. They'd blossomed together, playing pranks on fellow students, breaking Academy records, becoming highly respected in their respective fields and as partners, and she won't let that all be for nothing.

Jemma wipes away a stray tear. The thought that he might never come out of his coma, the thought that he would, but that he could be irreparably damaged, that everything that made him who he was would no longer exist except for in a place in the far reaches of his mind, locked away so tightly that not even he can access it, overwhelms Jemma so suddenly that she slides down the wall and onto the floor, her breathing ragged and echoing in the empty corridor, a hand clutching her chest in horror. Everything he'd fought for his whole life, gone, in the blink of an eye.

For her.

She makes a promise there and then that she'll do whatever it takes to get him better. She'll walk over hot coals and glass and go to the farthest corners of the earth, just to see him smile again, to hear him say her name. And to not let his mother be the only one left.

DAY 10

"Tell us how you met."

Jemma blinks, a little startled by the question because she had long since zoned out. The whole team are in the common room, eating dinner and discussing plans for S.H.I.E.L.D., and Jemma has barely joined in, her thoughts on her best friend.

She didn't realise the topic had changed.

"I'm sorry?"

Skye smiles at her. "How did you and Fitz meet?"

The room falls silent. Out the corner of her eye, Jemma can see May giving Skye a warning glare, but she actually doesn't mind the question. Maybe it will actually help.

Jemma smiles fondly at her. "It's actually a rather lovely story..."

Jemma sighs and tries (or rather, pretends) to pay attention to the girl chattering away next to her. It's not that she doesn't like her. Cassie is very sweet, but she also likes to gossip and regale Jemma with her boyfriend troubles, and it's not that Jemma doesn't care, but she wants to get this experiment written up, and really, the library is supposed to be a place for quiet, not for talking.

"So I told him I'd have to think about it, of course - it's such a privilege to get into the Academy, as you well know, being one of our youngest, and I really think I should be devoting all of my time to my work, but you have to have fun, don't you? Otherwise work is all you do, and I don't want to be that person, you know?..."

Jemma glances at the young man sitting at the other end of their table on his own, recognising him from their shared chemical engineering class. She's never spoken to him - the few months they've been here, he's always been so quiet and kept himself to himself apart from when the class needs to partner up, and she feels guilty that she hasn't made the effort. A smile tugs at her lips when she sees that he's trying to hide one of his own, clearly amused by Cassie's babbling, and perhaps by the look on her own face - she has no doubt that she looks like she wants to make a run for it. Then he flicks his eyes up to hers, as if he can feel her eyes on him, and while he looks a little shocked at first, he soon smiles when she grins at him, and it's a lovely smile at that. There's something about him that Jemma can't quite put her finger on, and now she really wants to go over and introduce herself, but she has work to do and Cassie is still talking.

"... So I said I'd think about it, but I think I will. I mean, there's no reason not to, right? Jemma?"

"Huh?" she breaks her contact with the boy with the nice smile and blinks at Cassie before realising that she's waiting for an answer. To what, she's not sure.

"Were you even listening?"

"Yes! Yes, of course. And I think yes. Yes, you should."

Cassie smiles, and Jemma breathes a small sigh of relief at having said the right thing.

"Then it's settled. I'll go call him right now". Cassie picks up her books and clutches them to her chest. "I'll let you know how it goes," she promises, and she gives Jemma an excited smile before turning and walking away.

Jemma sighs, puts down her pen, and leans back in her seat. She likes to have fun as much as the next person, but she also loves work and studying, and the library is not a place for conversation. Still, now she's intrigued by her mysterious classmate at the other end of the table, but not wanting to break the library's rules herself, she scribbles a note, tears the page out of her pad, scrunches it into a ball and throws it towards him. It hits his hand, and he frowns a little in confusion before opening it up, reading it, smiling, and writing a quick reply. He skims it back across the table to her, and she catches it just before it rolls off the edge.

She smiles, and proceeds to pack her things away. She's lost her train of thought now, and she could do with some refreshment. As she stands, she sees he's already waiting for her, so she makes her way over to him, smiling again, and they leave silently.

Once in the corridor, Jemma stops and turns to him once more. "She's all right, really - Cassie - she just likes to talk an awful lot at the most inopportune of moments".

He chuckles. "I had noticed. Jemma, right?" he asks, a little shyly.

She nods. "And you're... Leopold?"

He pulls a face. "Yes, but please, just call me Fitz. I much prefer my surname."

"Not even Leo?"

"Only if you're my mum."

Jemma laughs. "All right, then, Fitz it is. I suppose you can call me Simmons if you like, or Jemma - I'm not fussy."

His blue eyes sparkle. "Come on then, Simmons, let's get that coffee."

They start to head in the direction of the cafeteria, but then Jemma has another idea. "Would it be really weird if we went back to my dorm instead?" Fitz widens his eyes at her, unsure of what she's suggesting, and she doesn't blame him. "Not- No. I mean, I have coffee, and I also have a very lovely box of Ceylon."

"Oh. Well, in that case..."

xxxx

Fitz looks around her room as she's making their drinks. She smiles at him when she catches his eye, and he blushes a little.

"Sorry, I'm not being nosy, it's just... I have the same TARDIS."

They both laugh.

"It's brilliant, though, isn't it?" Jemma says, handing him a mug of tea as he perches on her bed. "I mean, do you think it could be possible one day?"

"Time travel? Absolutely. Actually, this is something I've thought a lot about."

"Me, too!" Jemma sits down next to him and takes a sip of her drink. "Tell me your theories..."

"And that was that. We were completely on the same wavelength, and decided to partner up next time in class. After that, we refused to work with anyone else. We understood each other in ways no one else did. And not just that - he made me laugh, he wasn't scared to argue with me, we challenged each other, we stuck up for each other and, believe it or not, he makes the best chocolate chip cookies. He's... home. I know that might sound strange, but we were the only two British students in our year, and we were the same age - it was a great comfort. We know each other completely."

"You two are the cutest dorks", Skye states, matter-of-factly, and no one disagrees with her. Then she frowns. "Hey, why haven't I tried these amazing cookies? Although, the ones I always used to find in the tin in the kitchen are pretty hard to beat."

Jemma smiles knowingly. "They're Fitz's".

"No way! Are you serious? What does he put in them?"

"Sorry, I've been sworn to secrecy."

"Is it drugs? Because seriously, once I've had one, I can't stop."

"That was you?" Coulson suddenly pipes up, then looks uncharacteristically bashful when everyone stares at him. He shrugs his shoulders. "What? Men get cravings, too, right, Trip?"

Trip holds his hands up. "Nothing unhealthy gets put in the temple unless I'm on vacation."

"Must be on a permanent vacation, then..." May says, a mix of sarcasm and humour, and when Trip starts to protest she grins, and Skye proceeds to make fun of him.

"They are addictive, though," Jemma continues. "He's cut me off many times."

Skye looks positively scandalised at that. "He what?"

"It's true. I'd binge on them during exam time - he was always so calm and yet I was always a mess, no matter how prepared I was. He'd refuse to make more until I pulled myself together and got some sleep." Jemma giggles at the memory, then smiles sadly. "It's been a while..."

"Hey," Skye says, gently, leaning forward and placing a comforting hand on her knee. "He'll be ok. He has to be, 'cause, you know, Trip hasn't tried them, yet, and I will get one down him."

"I'd like to see you try," Trip says, challengingly.

Jemma laughs a little, then takes a deep breathe to pull herself back together, and says, "Well, then, seems we have bets to place."

Skye grins.

DAY 94

It's been three months since they sank to the bottom of the ocean. Today, Fitz is finally back in the lab. He's been doing some tinkering here and there, but between his arm being in plaster, physical therapy, and then being sent for R&R, he hasn't had much of a chance to really get stuck into anything. He's handled it pretty well, but for a while, now, Jemma has noticed him getting restless, his hands and his recovering brain itching to get back to what they know best.

He's starting small, easing his way back into being at work, and the team knows he'll need time and patience, so they're not asking much of him. Coulson wasn't even sure he should be back, yet, but Fitz had been pretty convincing, and Jemma had backed him up saying that it would aid his recovery if he could start working on small projects. So, at the moment, he's recalibrating the ICERs and checking over what was retrieved from their lab on the Bus. Of course, they have already been checked by the other scientists Coulson has managed to round up since becoming director, as they were still required in his absence, but Fitz likes things done a certain way, and since these are mostly his designs, he wants to double-check everything and make any adjustments he feels necessary.

Jemma watches him closely whilst going about her own work. He's still tiring a lot quicker than he used to, something that will hopefully right itself in time, and she doesn't want him to overwork himself and give himself a headache.

"You just can't take your eyes off me, can you?"

"Huh?" Jemma blinks and her vision focuses on her grinning boyfriend.

"You don't need to keep such a close eye on me, I'm fine," he reassures, as he moves over to her and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

She sighs and gives him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I don't want you to feel smothered, I just..." she gestures into the air as if trying to grasp the words she needs.

Fitz stills her hand and clasps it in his, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

"Fitz, the cameras!"

He rolls his eyes in mock annoyance. "I hardly think that will get us into trouble, and there's no one else in here at the moment, so we're not distracting anyone."

"But the fraternisation clause..."

Fitz gives her hand a squeeze before letting go of it. "Does that even count anymore?"

"Of course it counts. I think. Coulson might be updating the book, but I'm sure the rules and regs won't change that much. You'll just have to keep your hands to yourself until we're off the clock," Jemma says in a teasing tone. "Anyway, I thought you wanted to work?"

"I do - I want all the things," Fitz pouts, and Jemma bites her lip, trying not to laugh at how adorable he looks. She's only partly successful.

"I'm sure I can sneak you a quick kiss during our lunch break."

"I'm sure we could sneak into a supply cupboard..." he winks at her, and heat flashes across her cheeks and down her neck as she begins to blush. He smirks, the little sod, and walks back over to his work station. She'll get him back for that.

Ten minutes later there's a fluttering of papers and a huff of annoyance from somewhere behind her, and she turns to see Fitz with his eyes closed, taking a deep breath. He's dropped his stack of paperwork, the pages now all in a muddle on the floor, and she smiles sympathetically at him even though he can't see her. When he opens his eyes, he crouches down to retrieve them, waving Jemma away when she goes to help him.

"I'm fine, I just thought I had a better grip on them," he grumbles. He shoves the papers back onto the table and starts to sort them into their proper order so they can be filed away, hopefully without further incident.

xxxx

It's only an hour after lunch, but Jemma can tell that Fitz is getting tired. It's the longest he's had to concentrate in a while, and he keeps rubbing at his forehead and blinking his eyes tight, trying to get them to focus. Also, she notices, his hand-eye coordination is getting a little sloppy. She can tell he's trying to hide it, but he's going to end up with a migraine if he carries on for much longer.

"Why don't you finish up for the day, have a nap?"

Fitz looks up from his computer and wrinkles his nose. "I'm not a baby, I don't take 'naps'."

Jemma knows this to be untrue, because Fitz loves sleeping; it's forth on his list of favourite things after her, engineering, and monkeys - he told her as much only last week. "Fine, a rest, then - a siesta."

"I'm okay, Jemma, honestly. Don't fuss."

He's definitely not 'okay'. He's irritable, but she doesn't push because she doesn't want to cause an argument - not yet, anyway. She'll give it another half hour and see how he is. She goes back to the samples she has in front of her and pushes another slide under her microscope, but manages to glance his way undetected every so often.

Fitz leaves his computer and walks over to a table which is holding an assortment of guns and gadgets he has been working through, and picks up a pair of x-ray specs.

Jemma watches as he reaches for them with one hand, tries to grip it, and then adds his other hand in order to pick it up properly. His face is a mix of emotions - frustrated, angry, upset, embarrassed - and Jemma can't take it anymore. Her eyes follow him back to his work-station, and she watches as he carefully places the specs down, something so small and light that a person with normal function would only need to pick them up one-handed, and could put them down easily without having to make sure they weren't putting them right on the edge of the surface they were placing them on.

Fitz is purposefully not looking at her, and of course she knows why, and she tries not to make her watching of him too obvious, but she also knows that he knows. Once he's settled, she goes back to her samples, and jumps out of her skin just seconds later when something smashes onto the floor. Fitz has dropped his coffee, the liquid spilling all over his keyboard and dripping off the edge of the desk.

"Oh, Fitz, don't worry," she says, as she goes to grab some paper towels to mop up the mess. In the grand scheme of things, the keyboard is easily replaceable, but she stops short when she sees the look on his face. He's staring straight ahead, his eyes unfocused and watery, and then without warning he spins on his heel and takes off out of the lab.

When Jemma finds him, her heart tugs painfully. He's sitting on the floor in the corner of one of the supply rooms, his knees pulled up to his chest, the heels of his palms pressed against his eyes. His shoulders are heaving, his breathing coming in big, shallow gasps. He's trying not to sob out loud, and he doesn't until Jemma sits down next to him and pulls him into her arms, and the contact breaks him even more. His arms go around her waist, his face presses into the crook of her shoulder, and all she can do is hold him and press kisses to his hair as he cries. No matter how horrible it is, he needs to let it all out. There were a few tears in hospital, especially right at the beginning when he couldn't communicate properly, couldn't speak, and he was frightened, but since then, apart from becoming frustrated at times, he's never really let go, never allowed himself to completely grasp just what has happened to him, too focused on working hard to recover. Jemma knew that it would happen eventually, and that going back to work would be a huge test, but she hadn't expected it to happen on his first day back, and she unfairly berates herself for not thinking that it would only take something small to set him off, because what would seem small to her, would undoubtedly seem huge to him given the circumstances. She's been looking for the signs ever since he woke up, so to then miss them makes her so angry with herself, as a doctor, as his best friend, as his girlfriend. She should have known that he was about to crack, and she doesn't understand why she didn't. But, she blinks back the tears that are beginning to sting her eyes, quells the upset of seeing him like this, and holds strong for him. He's been through so much, so she'll sit there for as long as it takes, for as long as he needs to, and she'll do it again and again if it means he's not keeping things bottled up. However, she doesn't regret agreeing with him that he was well enough to come back - he was getting fidgety and bored, and she sticks by her medical opinion that he's better off here, where he can do what he does best and not end up climbing the walls. His brain needs this, needs to recondition itself, and even though she didn't want to fuss over him too much on his first day, she knows she should have just put her foot down, made him pace himself better. Head over heart when it comes to his medical needs. She hates to see him like this, but she's glad it's finally happened, that coming back to work has pushed him over the edge, because now he can really start to rebuild himself. He needed to break to be able to do that, and now, hopefully, he can move forward.

When he finally starts to calm, she doesn't say anything, she just continues to hold him close, sobs hiccuping out of him occasionally until he eventually falls silent, his breathing deep and even, and Jemma realises that he's fallen asleep. Unfortunately, though, they can't just stay on the cold, hard floor of the storage room until he wakes up. She can't carry him to his room, and he'll be mortified if she calls someone else to do it and he finds out.

"Fitz?" She shakes him gently, feeling guilty as she does so. "Hey, come on sleepy-head, let's get you to bed." Fitz stirs momentarily, but then settles again. Jemma sighs. Her backside is going numb and so is the arm that's trapped around him. "Fitz, wakey wakey..."

He wakes a little this time and mumbles something unintelligible, but Jemma keeps on trying to rouse him enough that she can get him on his feet. Eventually, she manages it, but he's like a dead weight against her, and he's so out of it that he doesn't even realise what's going on. They move slowly towards the door (although, actually, it's more like some sort of hilarious shuffle from a zombie B movie). Getting it open is a challenge, but once they're in the corridor, it becomes a little easier. She stops for a moment to ponder the best way to go without too many people seeing them. She could just get him onto a chair in the lab and fold her jacket up so he can rest his head on his desk semi-comfortably, but if she leaves him at such an angle when he's already achy and in pain, he'll wake with one hell of a headache. She decides to keep going up the corridor that leads away from the back of the lab, all the way to the briefing room, but when they reach said room, she groans and screws up her face. She can hear Coulson in there, talking to their newest recruits.

"Simmons?"

Jemma jumps and nearly sends Fitz flying in the process. She steadies him before looking up and staring straight into May's eyes. "It's a long story," she says, her rambling instantaneous. "He was getting tired and then he got upset with himself and then after he calmed down he fell asleep but it was on the floor and I was trying to get him back to his room without anyone noticing-"

"Simmons, breathe."

Jemma does as she's told.

May walks round to Fitz's other side and helps her hold him up. "Come on, this way..."

xxxx

"Thank you, May," Jemma says gratefully, after Fitz has been put to bed, seemingly not having registered anything that just happened. She closes his door quietly behind her as they step into the hall. "He just overdid it, that's all. He-"

May puts a hand up to silence her, and then places that hand on her shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "No one is going to try and stop Fitz from working, if that's what you're worried about. I know it'll be difficult, but hopefully after today it will be easier to make him stop before he hits the wall, and you need to make sure of that - we all do."

Jemma gives her a relieved smile. "I will."

"Being tough with him might seem harsh, but he'll thank you for it, later. If he wants to remain a SHIELD agent, he'll have to learn that not overdoing it will get him to where he needs to be a lot quicker."

"I know. And I know he knows that. I just don't think he realised just how hard it would be."

May nods, and leaves Jemma with a reassuring smile before walking away from her. Jemma stands for a moment, thinking, then heads back towards the lab to finish her work and clear up.