A/N: First of all: I'm alive! I know I've been MIA for the last week and a half – to my defense, I had a lot of stuff going on in my life, both good (I had my university graduation, I attended a wedding and spent a few days at Lake Balaton with some friends) and bad (my grandma, who lives with us, was hospitalized, which has left me emotionally drained). But here it is now, a completely new one-shot, the longest I've written for AOS yet. I wrote it actually for a picture prompt, for Blinkytheory on AO3 – although her original prompt was Skye and Grant going for their first ultrasound together. But I've already written a story based on that situation, so I went another direction, and wrote about something that has been in the back of my mind for a while, that kept growing and growing… So here I am now, presenting you the very beginnings of Haylie :)
On other note: even if you don't have a Tumblr, I advise you to take a look at my blog – url's the same as my nick here – if there's an update missing. Chances are I'll have a post written about the reason of the delay and an estimate when it'll be made up. (I also have a Twitter account and a Facebook page for my writing I don't use – if you want, I can post these kinds of updates there as well.)
Also, the picture drabbles are back on starting tonight, reopening with a smut :)
Disclaimer: [Insert funny text here that tells you I don't own Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.]
Rating: K+
Word Count: 4667
Out of the Loop
Something was up with Skye, and everybody – well, at least everybody on their old team – seemed to know what it was, except for him, and it was driving Fitz crazy.
And it wasn't just that he was being paranoid (well, at least he was 99% sure he was not being paranoid), because he might not be the best at reading people, but there was an actual event, and its aftermath was what really put people – Ward, Jemma, Coulson, even May – on edge, whether they admitted it or not.
It had all started when Skye fainted three days ago – they had been sitting in the lounge that evening, talking and reminiscing, when Skye said that she wasn't feeling too well, so she was going to bed. But then she started swaying as she stood up, her eyelids fluttering closed, and then she fell. It was only thanks to Ward's – who was sitting right next to her as usual, concern written clearly on his face – quick reflexes that she didn't hit her head on the table.
There was some commotion as Skye, still unconscious, was carried to the med bay, even Fitz himself helping (even if it only meant walking next to Ward who was carrying her, and fretting all the way), but that was where his involvement ended. He was closed out of the med bay, and was left hanging for news. When Jemma came out about an hour later, she said that Skye was up and okay, and that it was just some dehydration, but she was not meeting his eyes and was chewing on her nails – and he had known Jemma Simmons long enough to pick up the signs when she was not being completely honest.
And then Skye spent the whole night in the med bay, Ward barely leaving her side. And not long after Jemma came out, Coulson went in to talk with them, looking extremely tense. And then it was May's turn, who talked with Skye and Ward with Jemma present, then came out of the room fishing for her phone, curtly telling him that she had to make a call.
And now, three days later, Skye and Ward were off to "see a specialist."
And Fitz bloody hated the sound of it.
Because people didn't rush off to see a specialist when they fainted due to dehydration (also, that kind of scenario didn't require the level of secrecy that was surrounding the incident). No, this kind of behavior spoke of something a lot more serious – something bad, and it was freaking him out. (What if Skye's body was rejecting Terrigenesis? Or what if she caught some kind of alien virus? Or what if the GH-325 was acting up in her system? There were so many possible scenarios, and each of them terrified Fitz more than the last.)
He might have spent half his life in the lab (although he did design badass stuff), and was therefore near useless in an actual fight, and had near zero aptitude for spy stuff, but he could be fierce for his friends and was a natural worrier, not to mention always thirsty for information, so he was determined to find out what was going on.
Going for Coulson was, of course, out of the question; even if he managed to catch the director when he had five minutes to spare, Coulson was the master of deflecting and not talking about things he didn't want to, not to mention that it would have been absolutely insubordinate to demand answers from him. May was… about just as hopeless. Fitz had a deep respect for the woman, but no matter how much time they had spent together and how many near-death situations they had shared, he still dreaded her glares. Ward, and Skye, the center of the problem, were of course not available at the moment. This left the one person who would have been the logical choice anyway: Simmons.
There was no point in being trying to be subtle about it (and he was way past that stage where he could have at least tried to be subtle), so he went full frontal approach. Almost knocking over a tray of test tubes on his way.
"You know what's going on," he said when he managed to right himself, resting his elbow as casually as he could on the tabletop.
Jemma only sighed and rolled her eyes.
"Fitz, please…" she said, pulling her protective goggles from her face. She seemed anxious, on edge.
"You know what's going on?" he repeated, although the second time it came out sounding more like a question. "Something is wrong, right?" His false bravado was slipping, and it was slipping fast. (He was scared, damn it.)
"No, it's… At least I hope nothing's wrong, but… I mean, what would be wrong?… It's just that right now… It's complicated," Jemma stammered, gesticulating wildly with her hands, before letting out a loud huff of a breath. "We'll know more once they get back."
"But if you'd tell me…" Fitz pressured. "All of you seem to be on it, and–" he continued, but halfway through the sentence Jemma raised her hand, stopping him.
"Fitz. It's not my secret to tell," she said slowly, putting emphasis on every word. "I'd like to tell you, but I can't. And believe me, us knowing, it's just… circumstances. You'll understand," she added, placing her hand on his arm in a calming gesture. "But there's nothing to worry about… mostly," she corrected herself, which was not calming at all. "Now, really," she shook her head. "I mean there's no point in getting ourselves worked up just yet." She turned away from him, fiddling with her goggles. "We'll all know more once Skye and Ward get back – when, I'm sure, they will tell us, you included, everything. At least all what we need to know. But until then, please, stay put," she asked him, turning back towards her work.
"But–"
"Fitz," Jemma said a little more forcefully. "I'm trying to work."
All but dismissed from the lab (well, at least from her side of it), and too worked up to do any worthwhile work anyway, he decided to go to the hangar and wait for Skye and Ward's return there, in the hopes of getting first-hand information from them once they got back. They had left early in the morning, right after breakfast, in an SUV without so much as a duffel bag, so Fitz felt confident that, being mid-afternoon by then, his friends would be back soon, and until then he could make himself busy with pretending to take inventory of the crates and such in the hangar (at first he actually tried to do it, but his notes ended up being a huge mess, so he gave up after ten minutes).
It was past five o'clock when Ward and Skye's borrowed car finally rolled into the base. Fitz was there right by it the moment the SUV was parked and its engine stopped, going for the passenger side, from where Skye emerged. She looked a bit tired and a bit pale, but Fitz could feel some kind of excitement buzzing under the surface that made her seem almost distracted, as if her attention was everywhere at once.
"Hey, guys," Fitz greeted them, drawing Skye's attention to himself; the hacker smiled slowly but brilliantly when she saw him, already opening her arms to draw him into a hug.
"Hi," she said softly as she embraced him. "Everything okay here while we were away?"
Fitz froze for a moment; Skye was a hugger, but this level of spontaneous cuddling was strange even from her, and it put him on edge. But he just shook himself and calmly said, "Nothing of concern here – but what about you?" He pulled away from her and looked into her eyes. "Where have you been? Is everything all right?"
Skye took a breath and glanced back at Ward before answering. Grant gave her a tiny, encouraging smile and a curt nod as he closed the car door, before walking around the hood to join them.
"Everything's great, really," she answered, lifting her hand and reaching out to Grant with it, until he interlocked their fingers. Skye gave him a look so intimate that it almost made Fitz feel like he was interrupting something. "Look, we need to speak with Coulson first, but then we'd like to talk with all of you. Could you please gather together the whole team, and have them meet us in lounge by the conference table in about an hour?"
Fitz, a little startled, could only nod.
"Yeah, sure, I can do that."
Skye smiled at him.
"Thanks," she said, and hugged him briefly again (just before Ward clapped him on the back, which was, again, a little weird), then the both of them, still holding hands, left the hangar, walking towards Coulson's office.
And that's how Fitz found himself sitting on one of the mismatched chairs around the conference table, waiting for Skye, Ward, and Coulson, surrounded by the whole team, with most of them looking about as lost as he felt – Jemma was fiddling with her fingers nervously, Hunter was uncharacteristically quiet, and even the always calm Mack seemed to be nervous. It was only May who wore a tiny, knowing smile, which in itself unnerved Fitz a little.
When the threesome they had been waiting for finally descended the stairs leading to the director's office, even the light chatting that had been going on until then died almost instantly. Coulson took a seat beside May, letting Skye take the head of the table, with Ward pulling up a chair to sit right next to her. It didn't slip Fitz's attention that as soon as they sat, Ward reached out and took her hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze. They shared a quick look, their gazes locking just for a fraction of a second, before they turned back towards the team, and Skye started talking.
"Hi guys," she started into the uncomfortable silence, her voice wavering a little with nerves. "We know some of you might be a little worried about what's going on," her eyes fluttered to Fitz, "or maybe even a little irritated by not knowing, so we thought," another glance at Ward, "that it would be the best if we came out clean and share everything with you as soon as possible, so… right now."
She cast her gaze down and closed her eyes for a moment, as if to gather strength. Then she looked up again and opened her mouth to say something, but that, whatever it might have been, died on her lips. For a moment she looked utterly lost and unsure what to do, and this – this was making Fitz even more afraid than before. But seemingly he wasn't the only one concerned about Skye at the moment, because he saw Trip half-rise from his seat to go to her, and Grant was just about to take over the talking from her when she suddenly found her voice and blurted out, "June 6th."
Her words called to life a silent, but confused buzz. The wheels in Fitz's head just kept turning – what would be about this date? Maybe that's how long she had left to live? Nah, if that was the case, she would have said an interval, like "eight months", since approximately that was how long they had until June 6th. Or it could have been that she was scheduled for some kind of procedure for that day? Maybe an operation? But no, that seemed too far away. But then what could have it been…
It seemed Fitz wasn't the only one lost, because Hunter cheekily raised his hand and asked, "What?"
"It's, ah…" Skye started, pushing her hair away from her face. "It's my due date. I'm pregnant."
Her announcement triggered different responses – Jemma, sitting next to Fitz, gave out a high-pitched noise and grabbed his hand under the table, excited smile on her face; Hunter's mouth hung open; Coulson only gave Skye a small, parental smile (but then again, Fitz thought, he must have already known what was going on); most of the others simply fell silent. And as for Fitz – well, he blinked a couple of times.
So that was it – a baby. That… that actually made sense, he guessed. Well, at least it gave explanation for the fainting, Jemma's messy non-explanation of the situation, and the urgent trip to that "specialist" – who was, no doubt, an OB/GYN whom they visited for a more throughout examination than Jemma or anybody could have given Skye at the base.
"It's a bit unexpected, I know," Fitz heard Skye continue, his friend's voice pulling him out of his thoughts. "Believe me, it was for us, too," she added with a shy little giggle, stealing a quick glance at Grant and subtly squeezing his hand under the table. "We found out only three days ago, too, but…" she glanced back at Ward, grasping for words.
"We didn't want to share it with you until we were certain that everything is alright," he continued for her. "That's where we were today, and…" For the first time since they had sat down at the table, a wide grin broke out on his face. "Everything looks great."
There were still a lot of things to discuss – Fitz at least had a bunch of questions, ranging from "how the hell are we going to handle this whole situation?" to "when should we start baby proofing the base?", but then Trip rose from his seat on the other side of Jemma, clapping his hands together to get everybody's attention.
"Well," he started with a wide grin on his face as he pushed his chair back, "I guess congratulations are in order. Come here, girl!" he continued, walking over to Skye and holding out his arms towards her, pulling her into a bone-crushing bear hug – and with this gesture effectively ending all kinds of serious conversation.
The room burst into a spontaneous round of congratulations, hugs and back claps as the agents all stood up and crowded around Skye and Ward – grown people, seasoned by life and technically fighting a war, forgetting about all the fights and battles for a moment in the celebration of a new life that was just about to begin, without a thought about what difficulties this would bring on them in the near future.
Fitz didn't get to actually talk to Skye – or Ward, for that matter – until much later; at first, she was preoccupied by the rounds of congratulations, then she was ganged up on by the girls, until she finally said that after the long day she had had she was exhausted, and excused herself to get some rest. And although he desperately wanted to talk with her, Fitz decided he could wait until tomorrow.
But then, as it usually happens, he ran into her in the kitchen after most of the base's occupants returned for the night.
He just went to the kitchen to get a glass of water before bed, only he found Skye already there, head in the freezer, furiously looking for something. Fitz – with a level of stealth that was almost eerily unusual for him – stopped about three steps from her, leaned against the table, and watched her with a grin on his face for a couple of seconds.
"Cravings already?" he just couldn't stop himself from quipping in.
Skye froze in an instant, finally realizing that she was not alone, then ever so slowly rose above the freezer door, her eyebrows pulled together in a frown.
"Very funny," she said, trying to sound irritated, but he saw the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "It's morning sickness, if you want to know," she added – confusing him a bit –, then leaned down once again. "But let me tell you, its name is very misleading. Ah, here you are," she sighed in relief a second later, pulling out a tub of ice-cream.
"Oh, no," Fitz shook his head frowning. "You're not eating that," he declared, reaching out, trying to pluck the tub out of her hands, to which Skye responded with a slightly offended look, but before she could have said anything, Fitz finally grabbed the ice cream, pulled it from her grasp, and as he put it back into the freezer, he added, "If you are going to get a midnight snack, at least have something with real nutritional value." He clicked his tongue. "Sit down. I'll make you something."
This time she actually obeyed; she gave him a tiny smile, then sat down by the island, resting her head on her hands, silently watching him. Fitz absent-mindedly shook his head at her, then turned towards the pantry and started pulling out the ingredients, already changing the recipe of his favorite sandwich in his mind. He had some aioli left from that morning in the fridge – not too peppery, so it should be good (although he didn't really know what Skye's current stance on spicy food was. His only experience in that area was his cousin Jenny, who absolutely loathed anything spicy during her pregnancy); whole grain bread instead of white – that was supposed to be healthier, right? And salami – or maybe some sliced chicken breast? – instead of prosciutto – the less salt the better.
He worked without a word, completely absorbed in the making of the sandwich, and in the thoughts that ran through his head in the meantime – thoughts that were honestly centered around that he, as a responsible friend, would have to look out for Skye from here on in, to make sure that she ate well and rested enough and didn't do anything crazy, because now she had a wee baby to grow, and as absurd as it was – after all, Fitz had only known about it for merely six hours –, he was already getting attached to it.
"I'm sorry," he heard Skye say suddenly, her voice barely above whisper. His hands stilled as he looked at her.
"What?" he asked, a little confused – after all, what was she apologizing for?
"I'm sorry – that I didn't tell you sooner." She sat up straight and shook her hair behind her shoulders. "I saw your face when we announced it," he saw her hand disappear under the table, as she absent-mindedly touched her belly that, so far, showed absolutely no signs of housing a tiny life. Fitz wondered for a moment whether she was aware of what she was doing. "I know you felt hurt. It's just… We wanted to keep quiet until everything was certain."
Fitz understood this, and he didn't want to be petty, but he still couldn't stop himself from saying, "You told May," as he bent his head again, getting back to sandwich-making, and spreading a thin layer of aioli on the bread.
"It's because she was the one who got me the appointment at the doc," she explained. "Did you know she and Andrew wanted to start a family? Right before Bahrain, and then… Well, you know," she added quietly. "Anyway, she knew this doctor from back then, and called her for me and got me an appointment as soon as possible. It's the only reason she was told," she went on. "And Jemma knew because she was the first one to find out – you know, she did some tests when I fainted a couple of days ago –, and Coulson knew because we really couldn't keep him in the dark about it. And believe me, I really, really wanted to tell you" she concluded, sounding almost anxious, as if she was afraid he wouldn't understand.
But he did – it might have still stung a little to learn about their baby last from their original team, but he didn't blame her for it.
"It's okay," he assured her as he placed the top slice on the sandwich with painful accuracy. "I'm not mad, or anything, really," he added as he brought the finished sandwich over to her. Sliding the plate towards her, he sat down opposite of her. "But anyways, what was at this doctor of yours?" he asked, suddenly desperate to change the topic slightly.
"Hm, this is awesome," Skye all but moaned when she bit into the sandwich, swallowed, then looked at him, a tiny smile playing in the corner of her mouth. "Well, she mostly did things Jemma had already done, but I guess she was looking at things from a different perspective – took my blood pressure, drew some blood… She even weighed me, to track the pregnancy well, she said. Then she did an ultrasound, and…" She grinned, but he saw her blink, maybe to keep the tears at bay. "It was so strange. There was this big, static, dark grey mess on the screen, and then there was this dot on it – it was really no bigger than a dot –, and she pointed at it, saying that was my baby. It is smaller than the nail on my little finger right now, you know?" She went on, getting more and more excited, and he couldn't help but reflect her grin. "And then she turned the sound on, and I could hear this whoosh-whoosh sound, only faster, a lot faster, and it actually took me a moment to realize that it was its heartbeat. And I'm telling you, Grant actually teared up, I swear."
Fitz chuckled at that – as strange as it is, having seen how Ward sometimes acts around Skye, he had no problem imagining him turning into mush during the examination.
"And really everything's okay?"
Skye, having taken another bite in the meantime, nodded at him.
"We'll have to go back in a couple of weeks, and she spoke with Jemma on the phone, asking her to keep a close eye on us, just in case – mostly because of the whole Inhuman business –, but she said that we have absolutely no reason to worry." She paused for a moment, then with a shy grin she added, "I'm at six weeks. Fitz, I'm having a baby!"
Fitz couldn't help but grin back at her; up until now he thought that the overused expression that pregnant women glow was just that — an exaggerated cliché. But looking at her now, he could see where the phrase had come from.
"So we are happy about it, right?" The question might not have been the most appropriate, and it might have damped the mood a bit, but it was out before he realized.
Skye sobered up a little; her smile paled and she cast her eyes down, one finger playing idly with the lettuce leaf sticking out of her sandwich.
"I know that the timing is not great – hell, it couldn't be worse. We barely have a home, we are fighting bad guys left and right, even the government is still kinda onto us… it's all a big mess. And I know it's not a good idea to bring a child to a mess like this. But…" She sighed and looked up at him, her wide, brown eyes earnest. "We have talked about it, Grant and I, before. About having a family – back in spring, when his brother was being an asshole. I mean, even more so than usual," she added, making the corner of Fitz's mouth twitch involuntarily. Yeah, he remembered that well – Senator Ward publicly going against S.H.I.E.L.D. and his brother. "And we said that we want that," she continued. "That someday we'll start our own family, and give our kids the childhood we never had. It's just…"
"That someday came a bit sooner," Fitz finished for her.
"Exactly," she agreed, rewarding him with a little smile as he reached out across the table and squeezed her hand. "A lot sooner. But I refuse to feel bad about it. I'm just going to do my best to work with the situation, love my baby, and that's it," she finished with a kind of confidence that only slightly felt forced.
Fitz, feeling that they have reached a point in the conversation where a change of topic was needed – something lighter, before either of the started tearing up –, cleared his throat and asked, "When I came in you said that it was morning sickness driving you to the kitchen. I mean – how?"
Skye actually groaned and dropped her head, so her forehead touched the table, centimeters from her plate with the still half-eaten sandwich.
"I was just starting to think that I'd be lucky and be spared of it – after all, not every woman has morning sickness, right? –, and really, not counting that fainting spell and some drowsiness, I was completely okay. And then yesterday afternoon – bumm," she even gave a little blowing up-sound, making Fitz chuckle. "I felt miserable all late afternoon, being nauseous and dizzy, debating whether to throw up or not. Today the same – that's why I said I was tired and wanted to rest, because I really didn't want to throw up into Bobbi's lap. True, I haven't thrown up yet" she added with a sceptic expression, "but I have a feeling it's just the matter of time before that happens."
"Well, if you need somebody to hold your hair back, you know where to find me."
His joke was so pathetic, it actually made her laugh out loud.
"Thanks, I'll keep it in mind," she said, tapping her temple. "But really, I was really not up to eating at dinnertime, but then the morning sickness – which, again, really has nothing to do with morning," she stressed, "passed, and then I was starving."
"So you came to the kitchen," Fitz supplied with a nod.
"Where your sandwich was godsend," she said, taking a bite from the aforementioned sandwich. "Although sneaked is more appropriate word, I guess," she added with a tiny smile after swallowing. "I mean, do you see a tall, dark, handsome shadow behind me, fretting over every little thing I do?" she asked, pointing behind her. "But I'm sure it's only the matter of time before he appears." She let out a deep sigh. "I love the guy to the moon and back – hell, he's the father of my child, of course I do love him –, but I'm already dreading the next eight months, because he's already handling me like I am a china doll."
"Well, he's right," Fitz said, clearing his throat. "You really do have to take care of yourself – and Baby Ward. Which reminds me – eat!"
He could see that she was fighting not to laugh as she bit into the sandwich once again, but a blissed out grin still won.
"Look at you, Uncle Fitz," she told him once there was nothing left on the plate, just crumbs. "Already getting into your role," she grinned.
Fitz, reaching for her plate, froze.
"Uncle Fitz?"
"Yeah, sure," she shrugged, grinning. "I mean it's not like I have siblings, or that we want to involve Grant's siblings, and we are already kinda a family here… So, yeah – you will totally be Uncle Fitz. Or Uncle Leo?" she tried out, making him laugh.
"Let's stay with Uncle Fitz, I guess," he told her, taking her plate and placing it in the sink.
"Okay," she nodded, standing up and walking up to him. "But now I'm really off to bed – growing a human being is actually kinda tiring, did you know that?" Not even waiting for his answer, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Thanks for dinner, Uncle Fitzy," she all but sang, then left the kitchen, already yawing.
Fitz just stood there for a couple of seconds, watching her retreating form, hand frozen in mid-movement, reaching for the sponge.
"Uncle Fitz," he mumbled after some time, tasting the words. Then giving the empty room a tiny shrug, he smiled. "I could get used to it."