“Cocky.” Fitz mumbled.
“Watch your tone. I’m just saying, I could do it.”
“Yeah well, I let you have your fun in space, and I’m taking back the reins. Plus, it takes a trained sergeant, even then, things could still go wrong. My hand is still shaky from the pod, and you’re not even a Doctor. ”
“Ah, then why do they call me The Doctor? Figure that one out, Fitzy.”
“I’m not letting you do it.”
“We’ll see.” He whispered, following Fitz as he walked out. “C’mon, we can fix this. Just give me control, and I’ll do it. You won’t even remember it.” He whined.
“No. I’ll find another way.” Fitz plopped down into his desk chair. He was lucky no one was around, if anyone walked in on him talking to himself, they would put him in a psych ward.
“Daisy’s powers are the only way to compress the Gravitonium, to make it compatible. You’ve already tried everything else. No amount of hammering is going to fix it. You attempted to re-make the Kree remote that controls the inhibitor, with no luck, which is probably purely because your incompitaint, but that’s not my point.”
“Then what is your point?” Fitz asked himself, annoyed.
“My point- Our point is that we will do this one way or another.”
“Are you threatening… Yourself?”
“No, I’m threatening you. I can take control anytime I want.”
“No you can’t.”
He was in control now. Fitz knew he was. He wanted to do things. Not good things. He wanted to get Daisys inhibitor out.
Faintly, though. He felt groggy, half asleep. His memories were hazy, they felt like dreams. What if they were. What if I am that man. What if I’m in the Framework. I did it to her. Aida, the Framework. My fingerprints are all over these murder weapons. I did it to her. I shot her. And I was going to kill her. Jemma. The second person to make me feel worth something.
The Doctor's memories were clearer than ever. Vivid. Agnes. Ophelia. Alistar. Proud. Abuse, all the kinds.
“Stop it. Get. Out. Of. My. Head.”
“Fitz?” It was Jemma.
And just like that, Fitz was in control of himself again. His breathing was shallow. Involuntary tears were streaming down his face.
“Told you.” The Doctor said internally.
“Hey, I found the biscuits, they aren’t hobnobs, but…” She trailed off for a moment, “Fitz are you okay? What happened?” Her voice wavered, and her face flooded with concern. Concern he didn’t deserve for what a part of him was demanding he do.
“Yeah fine. Just frustrated. And tired.”
“You should get some sleep, Fitz. I know you haven’t been, I am a super spy after all.” Jemma smiled, and brushed her lips against his.
“Biscuits sound good.” He intertwined his fingers with hers.
At least when he was with her, the voice would quiet down. It was never gone, but it wasn’t so loud.