Simultaneous

A very old oneshot set in between 2x06 and 2x09. I was having some pain over the distance between these two. 

Simmons walked into the lab at seven in the morning, still feeling like it was night. Fitz was sitting at one of the tables, fiddling with a broken transmitter.

"Where is everyone?" Simmons asked.

Fitz looked up from his work, startled. "Simmons. Oh. They- uh, everyone left. Coulson too. Something about needing supplies, more fuel... They needed Mack's help to pick out parts for the Bus."

"Oh," she nodded. "And what about Hunter and Bobbi?"

He shrugged and went back to his work. "I don't know about Bobbi. Hunter's probably....uh-sleeping. Yeah."

She started nodding but then realized he wouldn't be able to see it. There had been a pattern of this lately. When they were around the others it was a little easier; they lessened the pressure. Sometimes they even got through a whole sentence of conversation, but when the others were gone and it was just the two of them, there was silence. Fitz would find an excuse to be doing something somewhere else.

Not that she wasn't guilty of it too. A few nights back it seemed like maybe a conversation was about to start. No words were exchanged but their own thoughts lay heavy in the air, waiting to be spoken. And then Simmons had left the room, like a coward.

Simmons had to be the one to take the first step. She was the one to leave and she had to deal with the ramifications. But it was so difficult. She didn't want to lie to Fitz, but she didn't want to tell him the truth either. How could she avoid both?

In the days she'd been back, no answer had come to her. But something had to change here. She couldn't watch him slip away any further.

"Fitz?" she asked, her anxiety making her voice tense. "What are you working on?"

"...Nothing much. Just a piece from the Bus's umm....uh....calling-no, communications system. It's simple. Good practice." He remained bent over his work, trying to appear busy but from the moment she stepped in the room he'd been unable to focus. He kept turning the same screw over and over absently.

Simmons tightened her hands into fists and walked forward slowly, searching for the next thing to say.

"Practice... That's great. Have you...built much lately?" She came to stand next to him, closer than she'd been since they're last conversation. It took Fitz a second to remember her question.

"No-no....I haven't, um, haven't had the...the time."

"With so much happening lately that doesn't surprise me. This is the first calm day we've had since I got back – no wonder they went to restock on supplies." She tried to make her voice light but it fell flat. She was so frustrated with this. Why was it so hard to talk to him? She willed herself to keep going and sat down in the chair next to his.

Fitz's hands froze. "Simmons, uh, what is it? Do you need something?"

"I can't sit next to you unless I need something?" She winced the second the words were out. "Sorry, I didn't mean that. That isn't what I wanted to say," she let out a shaky laugh which carried no trace of humor. It wasn't him she was mad at yet she was letting her anger show.

"Sorry," Fitz mumbled. "I just... don't know how to..."

There were many things she didn't know how to do either. Like carry an effortless conversation with him. Was it because of the time apart? Or the oxygen? The lies she told? It was a million things woven together and she couldn't make sense of it.

Fitz finally glanced over at her. Simmons was staring at the table, her lips pressed together. Fitz realized something strange. She was struggling to find words, like he was. In a different way, yes. But for one moment at least, they were acting the same.

But it's not the same he countered, looking away again.

"You know, I thought about you," she said. "Wh-while I was away I- every day, I thought about you."

Fitz wanted to say that he'd thought about her too but all he could manage was "yeah." He wanted to do better but he was afraid if he started talking, he would lose the words that mattered. Maybe it was better to say nothing than look foolish in front of Simmons.

At the same time, Simmons was wondering if Fitz wasn't talking because he didn't want to. He'd been busy. She'd interrupted him and she should leave.

But no, not yet. I can't leave it like this again.

Then again, he realized, this is what I've wanted. For a while, he'd thought about speaking to her. He would stand and look over to where she was and then freeze and sit back down. He'd told himself that even if he went over to her, he wouldn't have anything to say. But right now his lack of words wasn't because of his brain it was because he was too scared. And he hated being afraid.

"I thought about you too," he said quickly, looking over at her. "All the time."

She stared at him, surprised at first, but then she nodded.

I miss you.

I miss you.

They each thought it at the same time, but couldn't say it.

Simmons was the first to look away, relief clear on her face. There was so much to say but she couldn't say it yet. However, this had been progress. A slight progress though, and any little push could send them backwards. Like her urge to put her hand over his. It wasn't the right time.

Simmons stood and walked to the door, the pressure in her chest still heavy but her head clearer.

"Simmons?"

She stopped and turned.

"See you later then.

Fitz wished he could say more but his unanswered questions still acted as a wall between them. So instead of watching her go he merely listened as her footsteps faded off.