A Bouquet From A Man Who Never Loved Me

Three

Disclaimer: In case you do not watch/listen to the podcast, Toby has come out as feeling more as a female and thusforth, I've changed Toby's pronouns to the ones she prefers, as I feel bad for referring to her with He/Him pronouns. From now until the fic ends, Toby will be going with She/Her pronouns.
Other than that, enjoy the third installment!

Fan art credit to @imjustmelving on tumblr

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Through the two hours of new reveals and exciting updates, Fitz couldn't sit still. His mind was racing, was Swagger okay? Was he in trouble? Why hadn't they returned yet?

      The panel concluded and Fitz jumped from his seat, bouncing anxiously as he waited for a long line of people to reach the exits.

      "Dude, what's your deal?" Matt asked, "you're fidgeting more than Mason." Mason perked up at the mention of his name,
      "Yeah," He chimed in. "And I've got two red bulls in my system, mate."

       Fitz cast a quick look of worry toward Mason before he shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, he scuffed the ground with his shoe, trying to give a good excuse.
      "It's nothing," he said. Matt arched a brow and Fitz resigned, "okay, okay, so it's not nothing. I'm just a tad worried about Swagger."

      "Now that you mention it, Toby left with Swagger in the beginning, and they didn't come back," Jay piped up. "Maybe they didn't wanna be here?"

      "That's stupid," Fitz scoffed, "It was Swagger's idea to come to this panel, he was the most excited for it. It just—It doesn't make sense why he'd want to come so bad, and then leave before it starts."

      "You think he got sick or someth'n?" Mason asked, mouth full of a handful of stale pretzels from a packet he had dug up in his bag.

      "If he did, why take Toby as well?" Matt said turning, "and don't eat those; they're bad."

      "M'why not, cunt?" Mason questions, "Expired doesn't necessarily mean bad,"

      "Yes it—" Matt tried to protest, before he sighed. "Whatever, lets go find Swagger and Toby, they wouldn't just ditch us here." He stood on one of the folding chairs and craned his neck to survey the crowds. Fitz, growing even more restless, weighed his options; wait twenty minutes to exit properly with roughly one thousand other panel viewers...or...
      "Fitz, what are you doing?" Matt questioned, with a tone of disbelief.
      "Getting out of here." Was all Fitz replied with. He stood on one of the chairs, next to Matt. Stretching one of his long legs out, he stepped to the chair behind and gave a little hop, swinging his other leg over. Seven more rows to go, he thought.

       Outside, Toby had taken Swagger to another bathroom. Granted this one was far cleaner, it still gave him an overwhelming sense of déjàvu. They had come in to clean out his helmet, chainmail and balaclava. Pink peonies and blue forget me nots coated in thick blood, now thrown into the garbage under a mountain of wet paper towels. Toby was trying to wash the inside of Swagger's blood spattered helmet, as he was shaking his chainmail dry.
      "I'm sorry," Swagger said.

      "For what?" Toby asked, her eyes not leaving the rusty helmet.

      "For, y'know, dragging you into this, having to help me twice about this."

      "It's alright, helping is what friends do anyway." Toby paused for a minute, the only sound shared between them was the faucet running, "you know what would make me accept your apology?"
      Swagger turned to face Toby, a brow raised, "what?"