Chapter Text
“Vintage tee, brand new phone, high heels on cobblestones. when you are young, they assume you know nothing.”
The smell of chemicals and the brightness of the room filtering through the thin skin of his eyelids were the first thing Fitz remembered about his new life.
At 27 years old, Leopold Fitz’s life had changed drastically.
When he woke up in a hospital bed incapable of uttering a single word, the uncomfortable plastic chair by his side desperately empty, Fitz thought his life was over. It was an accident , they told him a few days later as his eyes burned with unshed tears, after letting him agonize over hundreds of questions for hours. Not once did the doctors talk to him directly, some of them acting like he wasn’t even present in the room when they looked at his chart with various frowns and gloomy expressions. It was never meant to happen. Fitz had wanted to yell, scream, cry. But nothing in his body felt familiar anymore, and he didn’t even know how to do that for a little while.
It had been an accident, indeed. One of the prototypes his colleague had been working on had trapped him under the water of the tank they’d been testing in for several minutes, and it had taken an awfully long time to get him out. “It was no one’s fault, really”. He was in a coma for 9 whole days before waking up on his own.
His brain had been severely deprived from oxygen, and he had what the doctors called Aphasia, along with a broken arm and several other injuries he hadn’t even paid attention to when they’d been listed to him. At first, he couldn’t even comprehend them entirely. Words floated in his head, but nothing felt tangible anymore and it took a handful of days for him to be able to simply grasp full and complex sentences.
The first time he had finally understood the diagnosis, Fitz hadn’t been able to repress his urge to lash out in anger, sending the untouched food tray in front of him flying. It wasn’t the doctors’ fault, and a small, rational part of his brain knew that, but it didn’t mean the news didn’t hurt still. Later that night, as the cleaning lady rubbed the spot where the soup he’d thrown had spilled, Fitz had felt like the biggest arsehole in the world. He would have given everything to be able to talk to her and formally apologize, but he’d simply watched her push her cart out of the room with a tired frown and heavy heart instead.
Fitz was 27 years old, he had just been in an accident, and could barely talk or even eat on his own. He had troubles reading simple words after writing full scientific articles since he was no older than the age of 12, and could barely talk without stuttering on every word or getting lost in his explanations as words jumbled up in his brain.
None of his colleagues had shown up during his convalescence, not even the one indirectly responsible for the accident. As Fitz looked at himself in the mirror of the room’s attached-bathroom at night when he tried to brush his teeth, hands shaking and fingers curling around the toothbrush unsteadily, he had never hated himself more.
His stay at the hospital in Boston was short, all things considered, but cost him a small fortune. All the money he had managed to save after he’d paid the ridiculously expensive rent of his tiny flat each month, really. The Hammer Industry issued dismissal letter he found in the mail a few days after coming home wasn’t a surprise, either, but felt like a punch in the guts nonetheless.
After a week and a half back home from the hospital with no more paychecks and now empty savings, Fitz had realized that he had no choice but to use the last of the money he’d miraculously kept on his credit card to catch a plane back to Glasgow, and straight back to his mother. As if his life wasn’t humiliating enough as it was.
Leopold Fitz was 27 years old, and he felt like his life had already ended.
“Leo, I know it’s hard” Linda whispered as she watched her son rest his trembling hands on his chest, swallowing heavily. “But you have to try.”
At that, Fitz let out a loud huff. The kettle in front of him seemed to defy him, a thick smoke of condensation filtering through its opening and blurring his vision as he looked up at his mother. “You k-know it’s h-hard?” he bit back, “h-how exactly do you, hmm… do you k-know?”
The chair rattled against the floor as he got up, pushing the flat of his palms against the wooden table in front of him. The sensation of the cool and steady surface against his aching hand always seemed to help a little, but the anger inside of him was bubbling to the surface.
“Do you– d-do you have to– search for every word in a-a – s-sentence?” he asked, the bitterness in his voice making his mother flinch. “or think about w-what you want to say before you e-even– s-say it?”
“Leo–”
“D-don’t” Fitz shook his head, eyes watering. “P-Please.”
Living with his mum again was both a blessing and a nightmare in disguise. Fitz was extremely grateful for her, and for everything she was doing for him. But there was only so much Fitz could do to avoid the pained looks she threw his way, and it always broke his heart into tiny little pieces. It was hard for a mother to see her child in such a state, and he knew it. But it didn’t prevent him from lashing out at her sometimes, much to his deepest shame.
“I’m sorry” Linda shook her head, blinking away the tears forming in her own eyes. “I didn’t mean to push you. I only want to help you, you know that, right?”
Letting out a slow but shaky breath, Fitz let his head fall down against his chest, scruffy chin brushing the soft fabric of his unbuttoned shirt. “Yeah, m-mum. I know.”
It had been a little over two weeks since he’d first arrived in Glasgow, and the first week had been the most excruciating of Fitz’s life. It had been hard enough to have to come back and live with his mother after so long in the United States by himself, but the constant realization that his mother seemed to suffer just as much from his condition had been the last nail in the coffin for Fitz. Linda Fitz had been there for him since he was but a little kid with an abusive father, and had raised him by her own the moment Alistair Fitz was out of the door and off to America straight into another girl’s arms. She was everything to him, and all he was doing was hurting her in ways even his father never did before.
“I n-never wanted to…” Fitz sighed, curling his fingers on the table. “I wanted to be b-better”
“Oh Leo. You don’t have to be better, not with me. You know I love you, no matter what.” Linda came closer, hesitantly running a hand against his back. “Recovery takes time”
“I k-know. I just wish…”
“Go to the hospital.” Linda interrupted, her fingers curling around the back of his neck, just like she used to do when he was but a little child. “At least once. They do physical therapy sessions, and it can’t hurt to try, alright? All you need to do is get a prescription from a doctor, and it will all go smoothly from there. If you don’t like it, then I’ll stop insisting, I promise.”
She’d been trying to get him to take an appointment at the hospital for over a week now, something that Fitz himself wasn’t feeling ready for. He felt enough of a disappointment as he looked at himself in the mirror in the morning, incapable of shaving correctly, and having to ask his mother to button up his shirts. Physical therapy was the best course of action, but Fitz didn’t feel quite ready yet to show the rest of the world how useless he’d become.
But he couldn’t keep hurting his mother like that, not when she looked up with such hope in her eyes every time he managed to properly curl his bad hand around the handle of his tea cup. She was right, anyway. What did he have to lose? He already felt like dying every time he realized he couldn’t even properly talk about one of his old designs, when his fingers ached to work on something again.
“Yeah, okay.”
The smile his mother offered him in response was almost blinding. Her fingers didn’t leave his nape though, and Fitz squinted suspiciously.
“W-what? I know something’s–” he took a breath. “Something’s troubling you.”
He didn’t miss the way she bit the inside of her cheek, asserting the situation. Whether she knew it or not, his mother had always been quite easy to read for Fitz, as he knew all of her micro expressions by now.
“I might have called Daisy?” Linda finally admitted sheepishly.
Fitz heard himself groan before he even felt the sound come out of his mouth.
“Mum!! Why w-would you do— w-why?”
At the way Linda pulled back immediately and crossed her arms over her chest, Fitz knew he was in trouble for even asking. Her stormy blue eyes were accusing as they focused on him again, and the 9 year old inside of him shuddered in terror.
“Why would I do that?” she huffed, crooking an eyebrow. “She’s your sister , Leo.”
Fitz’s throat immediately constricted, his entire body tensing at the reminder. Daisy Johnson (“Johnson-Fitz”, she liked to joke quite regularly) came barging into their lives when Fitz was 14, when neither Fitz nor his mum had expected it —or her, really.
Daisy was 7 months older than Fitz himself, and it hadn’t taken a long time for Linda to realize that one of Alistair’s old “business trips” had been more (re)productive than he’d probably expected. By the time Daisy knocked on their door at 14 years old and introduced herself as Fitz’s half sister –making both Linda and Leo pale in surprise– Alistair was long gone from both of their lives. They’d learned that Daisy’s mother had left her to the nuns at an orphanage when she was but a month old, and Daisy had searched for both of her parents all her life, only to finally find some answers the moment she’d learned how to use a computer. The both of them wanted nothing to do with her, which to Fitz’s point of view was not surprising when it came to their father, she’d found her last solution. With a few foster families under her belt, she’d finally decided to join the only real family she had left with her half brother. She had filled out a form as her dear old father to pretend that she was visiting her distant family overseas, a child’s play for someone as capable of her with a computer, and flew out to Glasgow the following day.
Much to Fitz’s surprise and amazement, Linda hadn’t even been surprised when Daisy had walked into the living room as if she owned the place, looking around with a surprising ease. She’d offered her some tea, which had made Daisy wrinkle her nose, and sat down with her at the dining table. By the time the sun was settling down, Fitz and Linda were both arranging the bed in the old guest room that hadn’t served for years for Daisy to sleep into. It took months for Fitz to realize that Daisy was so implanted into their lives that it felt like she’d always been there, and he’d found himself a sister, as infuriating and annoying as she could be at times.
“You never called her” Linda finally said in a breath. “I know you two… I know you had a disagreement, the last time you two talked. But it’s been two months since your accident, and you never called her.”
The word ‘disagreement’ made Fitz flinch almost imperceptibly. From the moment Daisy had barged into their lives, Fitz and her had been inseparable. They had their fights, as any siblings would, but they always ended up back into each other’s orbits in no time. When Fitz was off to University in London less than two years after she’d arrived in their lives, Daisy had followed. She’d never wished for a proper education, but always encouraged her brother’s nonetheless. She had found herself a small job in the nearby café, hacked into a few servers from time to time, and they’d found themselves a small flat around the city for them to share. When Fitz had decided to find himself a job in America when he was 22, Daisy had followed as well, excited to get back to the country she’d grown up in.
But after spending 8 years side by side, joined at the hip at times, they’d grown apart in America. Fitz had found his job at Hammer Industries, and Daisy had voiced her objection. Daisy was always outspoken, especially when it came to the things she disliked. Justin Hammer was one of those things, and Fitz had eventually grown tired of hearing her bad mouth his job. Their shared flat became a little crowded for the two of them suddenly, and the silences over dinner more frequent. Each visit to Glasgow for Christmas or various holidays had become less and less frequent, because they couldn’t stand to put their mother through this, and eventually Fitz had moved out.
The last time they’d talked was a couple of months before the accident. Fitz couldn’t remember exactly why and how the subject had turned to his job again, but he remembered quite vividly how fast it had escalated. By the time he’d hang up, Daisy was still screaming at him, and he’d thrown his phone over the room and onto his bed in anger.
“You deserve much better than this shitty company. Can’t you see it, Fitz? You’re not your father, working himself to the bone to the point of becoming an asshole to the ones he loved. Do you really wanna end up like him?”
Their mother had found out, of course. And as much as it had broken her, she’d let them work it out by themselves.
Except the accident happened. And then Fitz came home.
“I don’t… I don’t” Fitz whispered. “I can’t. Right now. I’ll be back– before d-dinner, I guess.”
He left his mother standing in the living-room that night, disappearing outside to walk around Glasgow aimlessly until his legs felt like jelly and his tremors were too violent to be ignored.
“Hello, Fitz” were the first words out of Daisy’s mouth when she arrived the next morning, using her old key to open the door, only to be faced with her brother standing in the middle of the living-room. He could see and feel the way her eyes ranked up and down the length of his body, taking him in, asserting the damage. “It’s good to see you.”
Fitz didn’t feel strong enough to reply, yet. He simply nodded, cradling his injured hand against his torso protectively.
“Daisy!” his mother popped up from behind him, running towards Daisy to envelop her into a warm hug. Fitz could see her melt into the warm embrace, eyes closing almost instantly.
She’d changed, since the last time Fitz had actually seen her. Her hair was longer, and wavy now. She had dyed most of it blonde, but he could see a few blue strands here and there. Her eyes popped out more, this way. Fitz liked it.
“Come on, come on in” Linda kept going, tugging at her bag. Daisy never travelled with much, mostly out of habit since she’d learned not to get too attached to things in her foster homes. All she needed was a computer, a few extra batteries and some makeup, a thing Fitz had always found funny. He wasn’t materialist per se, but he’d never been able to imagine his life reduced to a single bag that he’d carry around everywhere.
“Wow,” Daisy finally said after a long and uncomfortable silence, moving in the living room tentatively. Her eyes settled on Fitz’s face. “I can’t believe you actually grew a scruff.”
Fitz immediately felt himself freeze in defense, shoulders hunching up.
“It’s not like I can— I can—“ he huffed, frustration and humiliation both kicking in at once.
“Shave it” Linda supplied quietly, her eyes turning sad once again. Fitz had to turn around, his own eyes growing glassy with tears. “He can’t shave it by himself.”
Fitz had no idea what his mother had told Daisy about the extent of his injuries, and he definitely didn’t feel ready to face yet another gaze full of pity coming from his sister of all people. For the better part of the night once he’d came home to have dinner with his mum who’d worried sick about him walking around the city, he’d repeatedly told himself that Daisy coming home could be a good thing. But now that she stood there and could see him, and how useless he’d become, he realized that it was actually the opposite.
“Well” Daisy interrupted his spiraling thoughts with a cheerful tone, “here’s one good thing that came out of it then.”
Fitz had to take a moment to process her words, before he turned around to squint at her. “Wha’?”
Daisy gestured to his chin. “Looks good.”
“Are you– m-making fun of me?”
Daisy blanched. “What? No! It looks good, it really does. It suits you. I like it.”
One day, when they were 20 and had gotten caught for something stupid Fitz didn’t even remember, he had realized that Daisy was a very bad liar. It was quite funny to think about, really, because she was one of the best hackers in the world and jokingly hacked into one of Britain’s ex prime Minister’s Facebook accounts on a dare once, but she couldn’t lie to save her life. As he looked at her now, eyes wide with panic and hands waving in front of her as she spoke, he realized that he’d probably misjudged the situation. There was no trace of malice in her voice, and she looked as vulnerable as he probably did, too.
“Ah” he supplied helplessly, then. With a tilt of his head, he shrugged. “Thank– you.”
From the corner of the room, Fitz could feel his mum’s eyes burning the back of his head as she tried as hard as she could to pretend she was busy pouring some water into the kettle. Daisy seemed just as aware, because Fitz could hear her mumble something as she rolled her eyes, looking over his shoulder pointedly.
“Fitz, could you show Daisy to her room, maybe?” Linda eventually supplied when it was clear that neither of them were going to make the first move. They were staring at each other with defiance from their far corner of the room, and Fitz felt like he was back to being 16 again and they had to decide which one of them had to set the table.
Daisy knew exactly where her room was, because nothing had changed and Linda liked to keep their bedrooms the same for whenever they came to visit. But it was both a peace offering and a direct order, and Fitz knew but too well not to ignore it. Daisy as well, apparently.
They climbed the stairs to her room silently, Daisy clenching her bag against her chest as the old wooden stairs creaked under their feet. She’d remembered to take off her shoes before walking around the house, much to Linda’s delight, and Fitz didn’t miss the way she hummed as her socks came into contact with the floorboard once upstairs.
“So, how does it feel to be back?” Daisy asked once she’d thrown herself on her bed, the mattress making an awful noise as she wriggled on it. “Weird, right? Damn, I didn’t feel I’d sleep in this lousy bed any more than occasionally during the holidays. I really need to make a trip to IKEA and buy a new one. I’m sure mom wouldn’t mind one for herself, too.”
Idly, Fitz wondered if he’d stepped into an alternate reality in which he was back to being his 16 shy and awkward years old self. Daisy was acting as if nothing had changed for him and he didn’t have to cradle his bad hand against his chest to keep it still, and he realized he had no idea how to deal with that.
“I– I don’t…”
Daisy was still looking at him when he turned his head, glaring at the wall in front of him with a mix of anger and disappointment.
“I’m glad to see you again” Daisy chose to say instead, ignoring his struggle.
Fitz huffed. He heard the bed rustle, and when he looked at her again, she was seated on her bed, her legs crossed at the ankle as she nervously played with the comforter.
“Yeah. M-much to see.”
Her face contorted into a pained expression. “Don’t say that. You know I don’t care.”
“Everybody does.” Fitz replied as a matter of fact. “I d-do.”
“No, Fitz–”
“You do,” he explained, huffing as his hand started to shake again. No amount of pressure against his torso helped, so he simply allowed himself to shake in front of her. “Don’t say– don’t. You care. You might not… how do you say…. you might not… mind? But you d-do care.”
Making full sentences always felt like running a marathon, and Fitz felt the beginning of a headache tug at the back of his head. He might have to take a few paracetamol before the end of the day, judging by the way his body reacted to his sister’s proximity. Daisy’s eyes quickly filled with tears as he spoke, something that became quite a habit for people that stayed around Fitz for longer than five minutes. He tried not to let him get to him, but it was hard not to let his gaze wander around the room and think about everything that they’d been, one day, and all the things he wasn’t now.
“I’m sorry for everything I said, before” Daisy eventually whispered. “About dad, about… about you, working at Hammer Industries. I didn’t mean it.” With a shake of her head, she sniffed loudly. “Of course you’re never gonna be like dad. You’re too good for that. I was stupid, and I’m sorry.”
Fitz realized his eyes were filled with unshed tears when he felt one slide down his cheek, hot warm and tingly as it slid down the bridge of his nose, eventually crashing onto the floor in silence. “I’m sorry, t-too.”
Daisy, to her merit, waited a whole two seconds before crushing him in a ribs bruising hug. It was her thing, had been since the moment they’d finally stopped dancing around each other and admitted that they did, in fact, like each other like brothers and sisters. It became a habit from the very first time Fitz had defended her in front of a group of people he used to consider friends, when they’d called her a freak for having been left behind by her mom. “Your life is just different than theirs” Fitz had whispered against her hair that night as she’d clung to him, “and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
As he hugged her back, pushing the side of his face against her hair and breathing in her familiar yet so different scent, Fitz realized that he might have been wrong about coming home. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t such a bad idea.
“I swear, if you huff one more time, I’m kicking your ass. And you know I can.”
Fitz almost felt like huffing one more time as he glared at Daisy from the other side of the set of stairs they were climbing. He’d finally agreed on going to the hospital for the first time, and of course Daisy had insisted on driving him, much to his mum’s utter delight. On the way there, Fitz had tried to ignore his ever growing anxiety, concentrating on the landscape outside of the car’s window and the loud and annoying music Daisy had put on the radio. But as soon as they’d gotten out of the car and inside the hospital, walking up to the stairs – ”come on Fitz, it’s only two stories up. Don’t you wanna work on that ass anyway? ”– the uneasy feeling in his chest had only started growing more and more. With each step he took, Fitz could feel the knot in his stomach tighten, making him want to throw up the light breakfast he’d swallowed to his mum’s insistence.
“You wouldn’t– dare”
Daisy threw him a look above her shoulder, from where she stood a couple of steps ahead of him.
“I wouldn’t dare, you’re right. But I’ve forced you to go see a doctor and get a physiotherapist prescription two days ago, and I will force you to take that appointment even if I have to drag your ass through the entire corridor and into the doctor’s office. No need for violence, just a little glute strength to pull your ass all the way there.”
Thankfully for Fitz, they were quickly arriving at their destination, and he’d probably never have to find out if she would. He did however feel himself grow restless as he approached the physiotherapist’s office, glancing around the waiting room as Daisy let himself fall without grace or subtlety on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs.
“Cool, they’ve got magazines” she pointed out, grabbing one immediately.
Fitz barely paid her any attention anymore. The waiting room felt too much like an awful memory, the white lights of the walls almost blinding him as he looked around the room for something to do that would occupy his mind for the next –he checked his watch with a trembling hand– seven minutes. On the chair, Daisy seemed unaware of his inner turmoil as he felt his breath quicken, and his mind spiral back to the fateful moment when he’d opened his eyes and his entire life had shifted on its axis. He remembered the loneliness of his hospital room, as he nursed the small hope that someone, anyone from his work or circle of colleagues would come visit him. It wouldn’t have done any good, not with the state he was in and his incapacity to talk, but the cruel lack of flowers on his bedside table and the emptiness of the cold chair next to his bed had felt like yet another punch in the guts.
“No one likes you, freak.”
Fitz barely spared a glance to his sister as he walked away from the waiting room, his shaky legs bringing him back to the safety of the dark staircase. No one ever bothered to take the stairs anymore when they visited hospitals, which was something he’d tried to tell Daisy when she’d forced him to take them just a few moments earlier, but for now he was eternally grateful for that at least. An empty space meant that no one could see him break down, and no one could realize how weak he truly was. When his back hit the wall as the door of the staircase closed behind him, Fitz allowed himself to slide down against it slowly, shaky hands curled protectively against his chest. The fabric of his cardigan was rolled up against his back, a feeling he usually hated, but he barely paid any attention to it. His entire body felt like it was one single and bare nerve, split open for everyone to see and judge. The trembling of his hand now made his entire body shake like a leaf, and he realized after a few seconds that the heavy sobs he could hear resonating in the vast staircase was his own breathing.
It felt like an eternity before Fitz realized that there was someone else there with him. He became aware of the hand hovering near his arm first, and recoiled immediately.
“Wow, wow there” a deep, masculine voice immediately said. Fitz winced, feeling like the man had yelled in his ear. He was no doubt nursing a headache, something that happened quite often after such an outburst. “I won’t touch you, buddy. I just wanna make sure everything is okay.”
Fitz squeezed his eyes shut, feeling himself grow tired as seconds passed and his breathing started to even. The presence of other people very often enlightened his struggles, because he was very aware of the image it conveyed, but the man’s presence was comforting and easy. The fact that he hadn’t tried to touch him yet also helped greatly, and Fitz was extremely grateful.
“Just like that, breathe nice and easy man.”
Fitz did as he was told, trying as hard as he could to concentrate on his breathing. He couldn’t help but hold his shaky breath with each inhalation, and the man laughed softly.
“Don’t hold it, man. Let it flow.”
His voice was rough but smooth, and Fitz let it wash over him completely. “That’s it, man. Follow the sound of my voice. It’s gonna be alright.”
Before he knew it, Fitz’s tremors had stopped almost completely, and he was able to blink the tears out of his eyes. The relief that crashed over him was short lived, as he soon realized that he’d have to face the man that had helped him. Shame immediately filled his chest, and for the second time in ten minutes he found it hard to breathe.
“You know when I first started here, I used to get panic attacks all the time.” The man beside him sat down heavily with his back against the wall, letting out a small sigh as his back popped a little. “I was so nervous. Did you know that I’m the first one in my family to have reached college? Let me tell you, when you have a big family like mine who’s looking up at you and waiting for you to carry the weight of the entire family name with you, you get cold sweats pretty often.”
Curiosity got the best of Fitz eventually, and he turned his head slightly to the side to peak at the man who was at this point just a faceless voice behind closed eyelids. His first immediate reaction was surprise, as he laid eyes on the man’s outfit, realizing that he might hadn’t been tended to by another patient who was walking by but by a doctor. The man seemed to follow his train of thoughts, because he immediately smiled reassuringly. “It’s alright, man. I’m on a break, right now.” As if to emphasize, he showed Fitz the cellphone he was balancing between two fingers, as well as the electronic cigarette at the hollow of his palm. “I’m Trip. Well, Doctor Antoine Triplett actually, but please call me Trip. I hate titles.”
Trip didn’t seem phased in the slightest when Fitz just stared in confusion, rolling his neck slowly left to right in silence, never pushing him to speak.
“I’m— s-sorry” Fitz eventually managed after a few more seconds of silence, looking down at his feet.
“Hey man. Don’t apologize. You’re here for the physiotherapy, yeah?”
Trip must have seen his frown, because he gestured at his right hand, that Fitz had curled around his chest. “I’ve noticed that your hand shook quite a lot. I’ve seen that before” he said, a shadow passing through his eyes, gone as soon as it appeared. “It’s alright, though. Doctor Simmons here, she’s the best. Patched me up real good after one of my accidents.”
“Y-Yeah?”
Trip chuckled. “Yeah. I’m the kind of doctor who doesn’t like going to the doctor, can you believe that? We actually do exist.” He waved his hand around in a dismissive gesture. “But Simmons is really cool, man. She’s one of the only doctors I actually like seeing.”
“Okay.”
The knot in his chest had actually loosened a little, Fitz realized with a blink. Trip’s presence, or maybe it was their easy conversation, had actually helped more than anything he’d ever tried when he got into such states of anxiety.
“You should go, though” Trip said with a smirk, looking at his watch. “Simmons usually takes people at 15 past, and it’s almost 10 past now. You don’t wanna be late, do you?”
Fitz swallowed around the knot in his throat. “I guess not.” His voice was weaker than he’d intended, but Trip didn’t seem to mind. He was the first one to get up, popping his knees in place as he did, before immediately extended a hand for Fitz to take.
“I told your sister I was taking care of you” the other man warned right before opening the door, which made Fitz freeze in his tracks. He’d totally forgotten about Daisy, and how worried she must have been to see him run away like that. “Just so you know. She was pretty worried, but I know how overwhelming panic attacks can be when you’re crowded. Siblings and families can mean good, but sometimes it’s all a little too much”
Once again, Fitz felt eternally grateful for the man standing in front of him. “T-thank you so much.” he managed, not without difficulty.
“Nah, man. Don’t mention it.”
They got out of the staircase then, Trip throwing Fitz one last encouraging smile before they walked into the physiotherapist’s waiting room. As soon as he did, Fitz saw Daisy jump out of her chair in a flash, and he was immediately crushed into a tight hug.
“Oh my god, Fitz” she whispered, pulling back to be able to look him in the eyes. “Are you okay? I was so worried, but the Adonis Doctor here told me to stay here and—”
“I’m fine, Daisy” Fitz immediately intervened, feeling himself blush. Behind him, Trip let out a throaty laugh. “Trip helped.”
Daisy glanced past his shoulder, presumably straight at Trip, with a raised eyebrow. “Okay” she said, slowly. “I’m glad to know that Trip has helped.” Then, she sobered up pretty quickly, all traces of amusement disappearing from her face. “But please don’t do that to me again, Fitz. I was worried sick! I was reading about Meghan Markle and the next thing I knew my brother was running away. I like drama as much as the next person, but not that much!”
Fitz huffed, shaking his head. Of course Daisy would have to be so Daisy about all of it. But it felt good, not to feel scrutinized and evaluated like a ticking bomb ready to explode, something Fitz knew she could do when it came to the people she loved. His sister had had his fair share of disappointments in foster homes and in life in general before she even came to live with him and his mum, which made her clingy at times.
“I’m serious,” Daisy insisted, her hand tightening a little on his shoulder. “I’m here for you, okay? Always.”
This time, the smile Fitz gave her in response wasn’t forced. “I k-know.”
Luckily for the both of them, and just as Trip had mentioned a little earlier, Fitz’s meeting time had come up. When Fitz turned around to thank Trip one more time, he realized that the man had disappeared god knew where, leaving him alone with his sister again. Fitz was about to voice his annoyance —he really wanted to thank Trip again— when the door to the doctor’s office opened at this exact moment. And Fitz’s throat went dry as he laid eyes on his appointed physiotherapist for the very first time.
“Hello” Doctor Simmons said as she opened the door to her office wider, allowing the person she was with to slip out after shaking her hand and bidding him goodbye, turning towards Daisy and Fitz. ‘“I’m Doctor Jemma Simmons. I take it that you are Leopold Fitz?” she asked him, smiling warmly, before focusing her attention on Daisy. “And you are..?”
“I’m Daisy,” she immediately said, offering Doctor Simmons her hand to shake with a wide smile. “I’m Fitz’s sister.”
“Oh! Wonderful. I don’t get people coming with their families a lot.” Doctor Simmons confessed, throwing another glance at him from the corner of her eyes.
Fitz, on the other hand, was completely frozen. His lips refused to move as he desperately tried to get a few words out, and he knew he was ogling her like a freak as she greeted both him and Daisy with her warm smile and comforting eyes. When did doctors trade mean gazes and constant frowns with warm honey eyes shining at the harsh light of the hospital waiting room and plump lips curling around a warm smile? Fitz was definitely not sure he wasn’t dreaming still, which would probably explain a lot. Even the doctor’s hair looked perfect, wavy and silk to the touch as it fell down her shoulders and framed her beautiful face wonderfully.
“I was just here to drive him,” Daisy confessed, sneaking a glance at her brother. Fitz could feel her piercing eyes on his face as she studied his unusual reaction, and he hated how vulnerable he felt. Knowing her, he’d never hear the end of it. “I’ll leave you guys to it.”
“Alright” Doctor Simmons clasped her hands together, tilting her head as she looked back at Fitz once more. “Shall we?”
All he could do was nod curtly, following her as she walked inside of her office.