Secret Santa One Shot Exchange 2016

Robot

So, I'm not sure skywalker2018 was expecting this, but uh. I watched S.H.I.E.L.D, or at least a few episodes-- so I could figure out who Leo Fitz was. The answer is a puppy. Leo Fitz is a sweet innocent puppy who could literally do no wrong. So, this one shot isn't perfect, but I'm like 99% sure I want to write out a plot to an Agents of SHIELD fic for him now, so I hope you'll stick around and help me out x) And watch my dramatic reactions to literally everything in this show.

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 Most of my nights on The Bus were the same. Lay down, try to sleep, fail to sleep, get up, make tea, work on music. Sharing a room with May meant that if I disturbed her sleep at all, I'd probably get my neck snapped (though she claims she doesn't get that "down and dirty" anymore, whatever that means). This means that in my struggles, I need to tiptoe out of the quarters, make it to the plush sofas in the bar with my laptop and headset before i start unconsciously humming-- or else risk my head.

The keurig in the bar was my savior, offering me a warm solace for my lack of sleep. Tonight's choice was the seasonal favorite-- peppermint tea. If you wanted to be technical, peppermint tea isn't really tea because it isn't made with tea leaves but... it was good for a sore throat, especially with honey.

I took a seat on the bar top, giving a casual glance back to the quarters. I felt terrible, honestly. We were nearing some of the happiest days of the year as Christmas was swiftly approaching, and yet I've caused some of the worst tension on this ship. While I wanted to blame most of it on Grant, who walked around like a broody teenager all week, I couldn't push all of it onto him-- I was the one who didn't return his feelings. I was the one who let him kiss me a month ago, despite having no real interest in him.

Part of me wonders if it was just because of how I was trained-- So many years of lifeless techniques have left me feeling relatively... empty. Acrobatics, gymnastics, self defense, offensive martial arts, archery, sabotage, subterfuge -- seduction.

I might as well be a robot. Everything is work. Everything is analyzed.

I feel like I haven't thought much for myself since I was 16, before I left Hawkeye's side and underwent training with Natalia. I didn't want to be a Black Widow.

I just want to be Tessa Smith.

Music is the last thing that's got me hanging on, reminding me that I'm human. My midi keyboard plugged into my laptop beckons me over from the bar, and when I open Tyrell on my pc, the words flow out.

"I'll take what I can get, cause I'm too damp for a spark. Kissing sickly sweet guys cause they say they like my eyes-- but I'd only ever see them in the dark. I'm sick of faking diary entries, got to get it in my head; I'll never be sixteen again. I'm waiting to live, and waiting to love. Oh, it'll be over, and I'll still be asking when."

I end one track and take another sip of my tea, playing it back once before adding in a violin layer. I open a new track and add a chorus.

"Am I the only one wishing life away? Never caught up in the moment, busy begging the past to stay. Memories painted with much brighter ink; they tell me I loved, teach me how to think."

I replay what I have and close my eyes, my hands clutched tightly around my mug. I feel the corner of my mouth twitch at the reality of my own words. I felt like an idiot, lately. I could never love Grant, and not just because I felt nothing around him-- but because there's one person who feels the constant need to remind me that I'm still alive and cognate. He's definitely the closest thing I've ever felt to love, if I ever felt it all. I'm not sure I'd know, but what I do know is: as long he makes me feel like this, I wouldn't ever be able to have feelings for another. He was everything good that was left in the world.