"'Reactivate' me?"

"I'm sure Mr. Culpepper would agree that you were one of the finest agents we ever had. And I'm sure that with your training with working with the NSY that you were able to sharpen your skills."

"Yes, Sir. Is there anything else I should know?" You hear Tom's door start to unlock slowly and see it crack slightly open.

"Well, for starters, it would require a move back to America."

"America," you repeat, your shoulders sulking. Out the corner of your eye, you see Tom stepping into the hallway.

"You would be training recruits, but if you feel like jumping into a case, I'm sure we can use you."

"Yes, I understand." Footsteps echo into the living room, coming closer until Tom is kneeling in front of you. You run a free hand in his hair, trying to calm him down.

"I know this is a lot to think about, but please consider coming back."

"I will let you know. Thank you, Sir." With that, you hang up, waiting for Tom to say something, but he doesn't.

Instead, he stands back up and outstretches both hands. Confused, you take them, and he pulls you up. Your eyes widen; you only had stretched the muscles in your legs, and this was only when you were lying on your bed. Walking hadn't been attempted.

"Tom, I can't. It's impossible."

"It's not impossible. It is necessary." He props you up, holding your waist as you wrap your arm around his neck.

"Baby steps." You nod, and, centimeter by centimeter, you shuffle your feet up, your foot never completely coming off the ground. Five minutes goes by in silence, Tom focused on getting you walking. And you simply didn't understand.

"That was the—"

"I know." You take a deep breath, afraid the answer you will be given.

"Tom, do you want me to leave?" He pauses. "Is that why you're determined on having me walk?"

"No." Tom looks to you, more serious than he's ever been. "I know I'm not telling you everything, and I know that's challenging and incredibly frustrating, but I need you to answer me truthfully when I ask you this: do you trust me?"

"Tom—"

"Do you trust me?"

"Phillip asked me too a lot." He pauses, just starting at you. "What's going on between the two of you? Do you not like him?" Silence was your answer. "Tom, what's wrong with Coulson?"

"I can't tell you, and even if I did, it wouldn't matter anyway. You wouldn't believe me."

"Why would you say that?" Because you'll always choose him over me. You'll always side with him first because of the history.

"I can't answer that either." You go to hold his face again, but he turns away.

"You need to focus on walking."

~

You stewed over the decision for two weeks. And in those two weeks, you had yet to talk to Phillip, had yet to get a second opinion, had yet to answer Tom's question.

"Hey babe."

"Can I come over? I really need to talk to you."

"Well if it's just talking, we can do that over the phone, right?" Okay then, when did you become so sassy?

"I would really appreciate having this conversation face-to-face." There was silence on the other end.

"Are you breaking up with me again?" Even if I was, I didn't ask a kidney from you. What's the matter with you?

"No, can I please just see you?"

"Alright, I'll meet you at the diner." Your motel is closer, what's going on?

Twenty minutes later, and you two are sitting in a booth sipping from the same milkshake.

"Alright," he announces, "moving past the cordialities, what's on your mind?" Taking the straw out your mouth, you prepare yourself for how you will ask him.

"My old job would like me to come back. And that requires transferring back to the US." Phillip's face lifts, like a burden came off his shoulders.

"That's wonderful! We can be together again." You give him a confused look.

"You weren't staying? I thought you were looking for an apartment here."

"I was, but now I don't have to." You never told me you were planning on permanently staying; you only said you were visiting. And if you were staying, you would have told me. Why are you really here?

"But I have a job here, and it's better paying." His face sinks.

"Better paying that your other job? Are we talking about the same careers?" How do you know I was a CIA agent?

"Yes. They want me to train new people. But here, I'm actually getting involved." His eyebrows fall even lower.

"But what about us?" He takes your hands into his. "This would be a great chance for us to get back where we used to be."

"I know, but—"

"Even if it's not that job, you can get another one. Or you don't even need one, I can support us both. Just..." He sighs. "I don't want to lose you again."

"I don't think I can leave a certain consulting detective on his own."

"Sherlock has nothing to do with us."

Actually, he has everything to do with me.

"I know, but he can't be alone—"

"He was alone before you came along, and I'm sure he can cope after." The bill comes for the milkshake. Standing up, he leaves the money on the table.

"Just please, think about it. Think about us."