The Director

Summary: As Coulson watches Fitz lose the fight for his life, he starts to understand Fury's decision.

Disclaimer: Anything pertaining to Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. does not belong to me.

A/N: This is a prequel to "Smile" and of the same headcannon.

Phillip Coulson, current director of S.H.I.E.L.D., stood with his arms folded and his jaws clenched. He was in the Playground's infirmary. Through a large window that spanned a whole wall of the intensive care unit, he could see his engineer lying motionless on the bed.

Fitz's skin was but a few shades tanner than the white hospital gown he was dressed in. His left arm had been properly set in a cast, while his right one played host to the IV line. A flat screen monitor suspended on the wall behind his headboard featured a split screen view—one side showing his slow, weak, but steady heartbeats and the other showing his brain's electrical activity. Or rather, its lack thereof. The tube forced down his mouth only hours before and the machine it was attached to were the only things filling his lungs with air.

Sitting on a cushioned armchair by Fitz's bedside was Simmons. She was bent forward in what looked like an uncomfortable position with a hand wrapped around Fitz's right wrist, presumably to feel his pulse, and her other arm cradling her head as she slept. Even while asleep, Coulson could see her anxiety and restlessness.

Coulson watched the scene silently for several more seconds before addressing the person flanking him on his left.

"What's your prognosis, Dr. Streiten?" He kept his voice soft, almost a whisper, even though he knew the room before him was soundproof, designed that way so the patient won't be disturbed by outside commotions.

The doctor started his answer with a weary sigh.

"What else do you want me to say that you don't already know, Phil? Agent Fitz has been in a coma for five days now. And in those five days, there had been zero to minimal brain activity. Then this morning, he stops breathing on his own. Do you really want me to spell it out for you?"

The director paused before answering, his eyes never straying from his two agents.

"No. But I need to hear you say it."

"Okay." The doctor took in a breath, then released it slowly, but loudly, through his nose. "I don't believe Agent Fitz will wake up from his coma. He shows no signs of improving. In fact, his body continues to deteriorate. Phil, I believe it's time to 'pull the plug,' so to speak. He's been gone since Fury pulled him out of the ocean. By some miracle, the medical team and I had been successful in restarting his heart. But it was a least fifteen minutes before Fury got him to us. The neurological damage had already been done. He's not coming back, Phil. It's time for you—all of you—to let him go."

Dr. Streiten had been right: Coulson didn't hear anything that he hadn't already known. He just hoped he would.

"Thank you, doctor. You are dismissed."

With a nod of acknowledgement, the doctor walked out of the infirmary. As soon as the door slid shut, Coulson turned to the person on his right. He kept his arms folded, but he unclenched his jaw and leaned heavily against the wall.

"What's your read on all of this, Melinda?"

"He's just a kid, Phil. They both are." Her eyes were still watching the duo through the window. When she finally turned to Coulson, he saw that her expression, for once, wasn't unreadable. Instead, it mirrored his own. "You do know that if we lose Fitz, we lose Simmons as well, don't you? She was already doubtful about staying with the team when S.H.I.E.L.D. first fell. I believe Fitz was the reason she stayed at all, and he is most likely the only reason why she's still here now."

"I know." Coulson sighed. Then he slid down until he was sitting on the floor with his back and head leaning against the wall. He crossed one of his ankles on top of the other and dropped his hands to his lap. "Five days into being director, and already I'm about to lose two of the handful of people I trust in this world. That has to be some sort of record, right?" he asked ruefully.

May didn't bother answering. Following his lead, she sat down on the floor right beside him, but opted to fold and cross her legs instead.

"This must have been how Fury felt like," he continued after she had gotten settled. "Why he did what he did and brought me back. I really wish we had some spare GH325 right now."

Coulson looked straight ahead, not really seeing anything. For the moment, he allowed himself to go numb—to forget about his dying comrade, to forget about how he'd failed to protect his team, to forget about the daunting task of rebuilding S.H.I.E.L.D. He even tried to forget that he was sitting on a tiled, cement floor of an air conditioned room, and it was starting to get uncomfortably chilly.

Suddenly, the fans of the refrigerators and freezers that lined the far wall started up, and the noise drew his attention. His eyes focused on one freezer in particular. Through its glass doors, he could see several transfusion blood bags—all of them filled with precious blood supply.

He sat up straighter. May must have followed his line of sight because he saw her start to open her mouth in his peripheral vision. He quickly cut her off.

"What's Fitz's blood type?" Even as he asked, he quickly pushed himself off of the floor and stood up. Then he made his way to the nearest computer station to look up Fitz's medical records. May quickly followed.

"Phil, no. I know what you're thinking. You can't just give him some of your blood."

He stopped his typing and turned to her, truly bewildered.

"Why not?"

"Well, first, I don't want you giving into some false hope. Remember, Simmons studied both your blood and Skye's. She found no trace of the drug in any of the samples she drew from either of you."

"But that could be due to the instruments on the BUS not being sensitive enough. I ordered her to keep her research in-house. Maybe if we had the more sophisticated instruments that the HUB or SciOps had, she would have detected something. GH325 could be coursing through my veins right now. I just have to make sure my blood is compatible with Fitz's." With that, he started typing again.

"Okay, let's say that you're right, and the drug is still in your system. Would it be ethical to give it to him now that we know what the side effects are? You yourself urged Fury to shut down the T.A.H.I.T.I. project. Have you forgotten what you went through after you were revived?"

He turned his head sharply and glared at his oldest friend.

"No, I haven't," he practically snapped. "But Fitz's situation will be different. I plan on telling him everything. I'm not going to keep this secret from him like Fury and everyone else did with me. I'll tell him the source and side effects. I'll even tell him what I went through."

"Will you tell him about the markings you carved into the wall of the storage warehouse?" she challenged. Though Coulson hadn't had a chance to tell her about that yet, he wasn't surprised that she already knew. He turned so his whole body was facing her and not just his head.

"Yes, I will." She sighed in frustration.

"You're being rash. At least think it through more. Give it another day."

"Fitz may not have another day."

"What about the rest of the team? What about Simmons? Are you going to tell them?"

"Of course I will. But not until after it's done. This is my call, Melinda. S.H.I.E.L.D. needs Fitz and Simmons. I need Fitz and Simmons. There're only a handful of people that I trust, and I refuse to lose any of you."

"And what if when he wakes up, they both decide to leave anyway?"

Her question threw him off a bit. He'd honestly hadn't considered that scenario. He thought about his answer carefully for several seconds before speaking.

"Then at the very least, I can sleep better knowing that I was able to save the life of my friend, and that I was able to save the heart of the woman he loves."

May stayed silent for a long moment, her stoic mask firmly in place as she stared him down.

"At least tell Simmons beforehand. She needs to know what she might have to deal with. We both know she's going to be right by Fitz's side helping him recover. She should have a say in this, too."

Coulson gave her a small smile.

"Think about it this way, Melinda: When you first heard that I was killed in action, if Fury had come up to you and told you there was a way that he could bring me back but there may be some serious side effects. Then he asked you if you think he should still do it. What would you tell him?"

May stood still for all but two seconds before she turned and walked away from him. She stopped when she reached one of the cabinets. From there, she pulled out an empty transfusion blood bag.

"Fitz is O-positive like you," she said as she walked towards one of the clinical beds at the other side of the infirmary. "Now remove your jacket and roll up your sleeve."