For the third night that week, Fitz found himself walking through the halls of the light house, on the way to the lab, instead of going to bed. He knew that this wasn't healthy and that he should probably go to sleep tonight, but he knew he'd just be plagued by nightmares. He knew that if he closed his eyes for even five minutes, memories of what he did in the framework would come back to haunt him. He knew that he'd hear the screams of all the inhumans that he's tortured, and that was something he wouldn't be able to handle.
So that's why Fitz spent all his waking hours working. He distracted himself by building random things like toasters that would start making your toast right when you woke up so you wouldn't have to wait too long. He made a pen that would write in different colours depending on the temperature of your hand. Basically, he made anything that wasn't a weapon. Fitz was done with making weapons.
He didn't even know what time it was, but it had to be around four in the morning. Fitz could feel his eyelids drifting shut.
"Stop it," he told himself, flicking himself in the forehead. He needed to stay awake, but his body just wouldn't listen to him. "Don't fall asleep!"
Fitz held his eyes open with his fingers, desperately trying not to fall asleep. He couldn't bare the thought of seeing the memories of the Doctor from the framework. He needed to stay awake!
"Fitz?" A familiar British voice called out from the hallway.
"Yeah?" Fitz answered, relieved. Maybe talking to Jemma would help keep him awake.
"What are you doing up this early?" She yawned as she walked in.
"Late, actually," Fitz laughed humourlessly under his breath.
"What?"
"Never mind," Fitz mumbled, turning back to his invention. In all honesty, he didn't even know what he was trying to make. It looked sort of like an electric tooth brush the size of a microwave.
"Leo, how long have you been up?" Jemma asked, pulling up a chair next to him. When he didn't answer the first time, she asked in a more serious tone.
"I don't even know anymore," he mumbled, still fighting to stay awake.
"Oh, Fitz!" Jemma sighed. "Come on, let's get you in bed."
"No!" Fitz scrambled to his feet with a new found energy. "Please no. I'm fine, Jemma."
"Fitz, you need sleep! You can't keep pushing yourself like this!" She argued.
Fitz just shook his head in response. She didn't get it. If he didn't keep pushing himself, he'd remember all the horrible things he'd done, and all the horrible things that had been done to him. He couldn't go to bed.
"Please! You're going to hurt yourself," Jemma begged. Fitz shook his head again.
"I can't, Jemma. Because every time I close my eyes, I'm him again. I'm the Doctor, back in the framework, killing inhumans again. Or, I'm getting beat up by my own damn father, and I can't even remember whether those memories were real or whether they were just another part of the damn framework that I built!" Fitz was yelling by the end of it, tears streaming down him face. "It's my own bloody fault too. I created Aida, I made the framework, and I tortured and killed inhumans! Damn it, Jemma, I shot you!"
"It wasn't real Fitz," Jemma whispered, wrapping her arms around him carefully, as if he were an easily spooked animal.
"Yes it was, and it's all my fault."
Jemma pulled away from him with an angry look on her face and tears in her eyes.
"Leopold Fitz, you listen to me! That was not your fault! You created Aida to do good, you created the framework to do good! You did not intentionally create a killer robot! That was not what you made Aida for!"
Fitz opened his mouth to say something, but Jemma cut him off.
"Your choices in the Framework were influenced by a terrible childhood! That man in the framework was brought up by a harsh and cruel father instead of his loving mother! That is not you, Fitz. You are not your father. You are not the Doctor. You are Leopold Fitz, the man who married his best friend, that's me by the way. The man I married is good, and kind, and sweet, and an amazing engineer."
"Jemma, I-"
Fitz was cut off once again by Jemma. But this time, it was because she hugged him so tight he couldn't breathe.
"Do not blame yourself for what happened in the framework. No one else does." She whispered.
"Okay," he whispered back, burying his face in her neck.
"Promise?"
"I promise."
Jemma pulled away just enough so that she could look him in the eyes. Fitz affectionately brushed away a tear that was rolling down her cheek.
"Will you come to bed now?" Jemma asked softly, moving her arms from around his waist to around his neck. Fitz nodded.
"Okay."
Even though he probably would have nightmares of the framework for a while, Fitz had Jemma, the love of his life, who would be there for him no matter what.