- I told you so. I told you, I told you, but did you listen to me ?
- Ward, calm down.
- Calm down ? How am I expected to calm down when …
- That’s an order, Ward.
At this, Grant closes his mouth, his chest heaving as he takes a deep breath, staring at the man before him. Coulson’s jaw is clenched, despite his apparent calmness. Grant turns away, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration.
- It wasn’t supposed to go down like this, Coulson says. She wasn’t supposed to be in any danger.
- I knew this mission was a bad idea.
- All our missions are bad ideas ! Coulson retorts. We’re safe, until something goes wrong. That’s how it goes. That’s the job, Ward. You know that.
He’s right. Grant knows his superior is right, but that doesn’t calm him down. He tries to breathe, tries to tell himself that Simmons knew the risks, as they all do, but it only sets him on edge even more. In the corner, Agent May is quiet, sitting down, her bandaged arm over her chest. She hasn’t said a word for the last few minutes. When the phone rings, she picks up without hesitation, before Coulson can even react. Grant sits down heavily, sighing.
- She’s awake.
- What ?
- She’s awake, May repeats.
********
They’re at the medical facility quickly. When they arrive, Skye is waiting outside Simmons’ room. The young girl looks exhausted, and there’s no trace of smirk or humor on her face, which isn’t something Grant is used to.
- Did you see her ? Grant asks, looking at the closed door. How is she ?
- She’s… okay, Skye says, swallowing. She can’t move well, she’s tired but … at least she’s awake.
Grant glances to the side. Coulson is talking to the doctors, May by his side.
- Can we see her ? Why is the door closed ? Grant asks.
- Fitz is in there, Skye answers. I left them alone – it got a little… weepy in there. I felt like I was intruding.
- Oh.
Grant glances nervously at the door, taking a breath, sticking his hands into his pockets. Skye looks at him for a moment.
- Hey, she says. It’s not your fault, you know.
- The hell it’s not, he grumbles.
- Nobody knew what was going to happen. She was supposed to take samples, that’s all… Nobody knew there were traitors. If even the Cavalry got hurt, there’s nothing you could have done.
Grant glances towards Agent May, who’s listening to the doctors intently. He stares at her broken arm for a moment, then clenches his jaw, looking down.
- You want to blame someone, blame me, Skye says, shrugging. I should have done my research better. Maybe I could have prevented this.
- It’s not your fault, Grant says automatically. You’re right, it’s not… anyone’s fault. These things happen. It’s the job.
- I know. But it was such a close call… it’s lucky she woke up. She might… she might not have. If she hadn’t…
Skye looks away quickly, swallowing, staring at the floor. Coulson and May walk towards them, and Grant catches Skye wiping her eyes.
- She’s going to be all right, Coulson says immediately, relief obvious in his voice. The operation went better than they expected. They were able to stop the internal bleeding.
- They need to keep her here a while, May adds.
- How long ? Skye asks.
- I don’t know, Coulson admits. But she’ll be fine. That’s what counts.
He glances at the door.
- Fitz is in there, Skye says.
- Well, I do love making entrances, Coulson smiles slightly.
He gives a quick knock, then enters the room, the others in tow.
Simmons is lying in the bed, looking frightfully pale. The right side of her face is heavily bruised, and one of her legs is in a cast. Next to the bed, Fitz is kneeling, holding one of her hands in both of his. His eyes are red, and Grant looks to the ground as he realizes the man had obviously been crying. At the sight of the others, Fitz quickly gets up, wiping his eyes, looking away. Coulson gives him a small smile, then walks towards the bed.
- Agent Simmons, he says.
- Hey, boss.
Grant shivers. Simmons is wearing a painful smile, and her voice sounds small, broken, and raspy. And yet, her tone has a lightness that affects him more than it should. He wants to say something, anything, but the words catch in his throat.
- Decided to wake up from your nap ? Coulson asks, keeping the mood light.
- Yeah. I didn’t want Fitz to mess up my samples, Simmons answers weakly, giving her friend a glance and a teasing smile.
Grant looks from her to Fitz. The young man is looking back at the wounded girl, a vulnerable expression on his face. Grant looks away again when Fitz’s eyes well up with tears. Immediately, Skye moves to grab the young scientist’s arm.
- Hey, she says. Let’s go get some coffee, okay, genius ? Do you want anything, Jemma ?
- No, thank you.
- Okay. Come on, Fitz.
Skye drags a reluctant Fitz away, and Grant breathes a sigh of relief. There was something unsettling about Fitz’s open emotions that made him uncomfortable. The scientist obviously had the scare of his life. Grant recalls his reaction when he learned that Simmons had been wounded… he thought Fitz was going to pass out.
- How’s your arm, Agent May ? Simmons asks gently.
Melinda gives the girl a rare smile.
- Don’t worry about that, she says simply. Worry about yourself.
- You saved my life, back there, Simmons whispers.
- If I’d gotten in sooner, I would have saved you the trip to the hospital.
May’s tone is neutral enough, but Grant knows her enough to recognize in her a hint of the guilt that’s been plaguing him too.
- I’ll take a hospital bed over a coffin, Simmons says with a little smile.
She winces suddenly and closes her eyes. Grant takes a step forward.
- Are you okay ? he asks worriedly.
- Yeah, Simmons says, opening her eyes. It just… hurts a bit.
- Do you need a doctor ?
- Oh, no, no… I’m quite all right…
Coulson’s phone rings. He makes an apologetic face and steps out of the room. May, frowning, watches him go.
- I’ll be right back, she says quietly, before following Coulson out.
Grant watches them go, then turns back to Simmons. She’s looking at him. She seems incredibly tired. He hesitates, then takes the seat next to the bed.
- How are you feeling ? he asks after a few seconds, at a loss for words.
- I’m okay. It hurts, but… that’s normal. I’ll be fine.
- Good.
He wishes he could say more. He wants to tell her how scared he was, how afraid he was that she might die, how guilty he feels at letting her get hurt. But he’s not good with words. And it’s the job. Wounds happen. He has seen people get hurt before. There’s no reason why this should be different.
- Do you need anything ? he asks suddenly. From home, or…
- No, she whispers. I mean, yes, but… I was told someone here would take care of it.
- Right. Of course.
He looks at her as she closes her eyes for a moment. The bruises on her face make his heart ache in a way he can’t quite comprehend. He’s so busy staring that he doesn’t notice her opening her eyes.
- It’s not your fault, you know, she says, echoing Skye’s earlier words.
He stares at her, the air knocked out of his lungs. How does she know ?
- I know you blame yourself, she whispers. Everyone does. May, Skye, Coulson, even Fitz, and… I imagine you do too. But this isn’t your fault. I felt like you should hear that.
He remains quiet for a few seconds. She gives him a little smile.
- Thank you, he whispers, even if her words did little to erase his guilt.
- You’re welcome.
Silence settles for a few moments. When he glances towards the door, Grant spots Coulson and May talking in hushed voices, in the hall.
- Skye said something earlier.
Grant turns back towards Simmons, frowning.
- What did she say ? he asks, tilting his head.
- She said that… when I got hurt, you were… very upset. Her exact words were “totally flipped out”.
Grant freezes and curses Skye inwardly, but he can’t bring himself to deny it. Not now. Not when Simmons had come so close to dying.
- She’s right, he admits, glancing at her, clearing his throat. I was … I was scared.
- You were, Simmons says with a stunned smile.
- You seem surprised.
- A little.
- Why ?
He’s trying to keep a neutral face, but something about her attitude stings, and he’s trying to hide it. Does she think he’s unfeeling, cold ? Does she really believe he’d watch a colleague die without any sort of reaction ?
- I… I didn’t think you cared this much.
- Well, I do, Grant replies with more intensity than he intended. I care.
- It’s sweet that you do. I’m glad.
She suddenly winces, and he frowns, until he notices that she was trying to move her hand towards him. Quickly, he grabs her hand with his to stop her from moving too much. She smiles softly, and he gives her hand an instinctive squeeze.
- I’m glad you’re all right, he whispers, ignoring the odd sensation he suddenly feels in his chest.
- Thank you.
He holds her hand in his for a moment, his eyes never leaving her face. Her eyes are closed again – it’s obvious she’s on the verge of falling asleep. She looks so small, so weak, so fragile… it hurts him to look at her, but he doesn’t stop.
She opens her eyes again when Coulson and May walk back into the room, closely followed by Fitz and Skye. Grant drops Jemma’s hand quickly, and stands up instinctively, rubbing the back of his neck. May gives him an odd look, but nobody else seems to have noticed anything.
Fitz sits down in the chair he left, and Simmons gives him a bright smile. Grant takes a few steps back, standing next to Skye, while Fitz quickly grabs the hand Grant dropped. For some reason, the tension in Grant’s chest seems to increase at the sight of the gesture. He brushes it off, shaking his head. He’s been on edge all day, and it hasn’t quite evaporated yet. Nothing more.
Coulson moves towards him, and quickly, quietly, starts briefing him on their next mission. Grant straightens his shoulders, nodding sternly. The job comes before everything. That’s the way it goes.
He looks back at Simmons and, as she’s listening to Fitz talking, her eyes meet Grant’s. Her expression softens and, when she smiles, he feels himself a warmth spread through his heart, filling his chest.
He doesn’t question it, doesn’t second-guess it, doesn’t fight it : he just smiles back.