Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Everything in the universe has an explanation. And Jemma Simmons has made it her life’s ambition to learn as many of those explanations as she can. She spends every waking moment learning all she can. Asking every question she can. But there is one thing that no one can explain to her. How soulmates work. Everyone has a soulmate, but most never meet.

In fact, only 0.00527% of people ever meet theirs. Of course, some people make it their life’s mission to find their soulmate, and they have a slightly higher percentage, but on the whole, it was understood that it was almost impossible to find your soulmate, so why bother? There were soulmate conventions, where thousands of people would go and shake hands with as many people as they could, in the desperate hope to find their other half, but most people had long since given up, there were too many people in this world and not enough time. It was best just to make do with what you had, and many people still had successful relationships without finding their soulmates, so really it hardly felt necessary.

The lack of soulmate matches made studying them more than a little difficult. Sorting fact from fiction around soulmates had always been a struggle, even for the most avid soulmate enthusiast, the most dedicated professor; there was so little information, and so much rumour, it was impossible to really know how it worked. Not to mention that those who did find their soulmates often kept it a secret so as not to be studied like lab rats.

What Jemma Simmons did know, was that if soulmates touched, they would be able to hear each other’s thoughts. Everything else was unclear. Some claimed they could maintain this psychic connection without physical touch, some claimed that finding your soulmates could unlock new senses, others that they could share sensations like pain and pleasure, some even said that they could control each other’s bodies. But there was no conclusive evidence, and no proof that all soulmates experienced the psychic connection the same way. But that wasn’t what frustrated Jemma, it was the lack of understanding of how it actually worked. How did people share their thoughts with one another? How was this ability unlocked, how did the body know it was in contact with its soulmate, what even made a person someone’s soulmate? So many questions and no answers.

So, Jemma set about answering the questions she could. She had quickly learned that limiting her academic focus to soulmates would get her laughed out of every lab, so instead she expanded her horizons to biochemistry. And then one day, she would have the knowledge and respect in the scientific field to conduct her own research on soulmates.

Jemma was what people liked to call a child prodigy; she had accelerated through school and university, always hungry for more knowledge and understanding. When she was fifteen and in the final stages of her second Ph.D., she was called to the head of department’s office. Upon arrival she was greeted by a woman, Anne Weaver, who claimed to work for the American government, she said that they had been watching Jemma over the last few years and wanted to invite her to continue her education with them, in America.

Weaver said she knew it was a big decision, one she herself had made at a similar age, however she assured her it would be worth the risk and left her with her contact details and a million unanswered questions. She couldn’t know what branch of the US government she would be joining, or even where she was going, not unless she accepted the offer. But what she was promised, was academic opportunities unlike any other.

It had been that promise in the end that convinced her to accept. There were so many unknowns, but the chance to reach the top of her field, meet minds like hers, was too much to resist. Her whole life she had been an outcast, being fast-tracked through primary and secondary school had meant she had never been in a class with children her own age.

She had started university at eleven years old and achieved two Ph.D.’s all before her sixteenth birthday. Even if she had had time for friends, no one around her had ever expressed any interest in her, beyond annoyance at the small child joining their class. Perhaps this new adventure would lead her to people like herself, people who understood what it was like to be a decade younger than your peers.

So off she went to America, in search of answers. She enrolled at the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy of Science and Technology, a place for the brightest minds of their generation to access the very best in scientific and technological education. A place to further her growth and maybe, just maybe, learn more about soulmates. If anyone was researching soulmates with any level of success, surely it would be S.H.I.E.L.D.?

She entered the academy days after her sixteenth birthday but she quickly discovered that once again she was the youngest of her peers. Everyone else was at least three years older than she was, but most were closer to being five years her senior. But a three-to-five-year age difference was workable, she was a friendly person after all, so she remained positive that she could break out of her cycle of solitude.

Unfortunately, her peers didn’t seem to share her belief, and they quickly made it clear that they didn’t want a fresh faced sixteen-year-old trailing around after them. Perhaps loneliness would haunt her wherever she went, like the faithful companion she so desperately craved. What she did have was her mind, and her popularity had no effect on her ability to be a truly magnificent scientist. Acceptance of her continued isolation was slowly seeping in when Leopold Fitz entered her life.

It was her second week when she first heard his voice, her hand shot up to answer a question only to find she had been beaten to it by him. He looked and sounded even younger than she was, his voice breaking mid-sentence in a pubescent squeak. That, combined with his near impenetrable Scottish accent, brought out a chorus of laughs from their peers. His face grew red, but he ploughed on, undeterred, despite needing three attempts at answering the question before their professor could understand what he had said.

And to his credit his answer was brilliant, in fact a little too brilliant; Jemma found herself bristling with frustration at the fact that his answer was more thorough than hers would have been. The next question her professor gave to the lecture hall she ensured her hand shot up first, desperate to prove herself the best in the class.

Their competition for best student continued on for the first few weeks. They never spoke directly to one another, but in the classes they shared together, they were constantly competing for supremacy, desperate to outdo the other.

With some digging she had found out who he was, Leopold Fitz, second youngest student enrolled at the academy. His specialty was engineering, but like herself, he was taking a wide variety of classes to expand his knowledge further. The perfect rival, and really, Jemma supposed, if she couldn’t have a friend then an academic rival was a close second. They pushed each other to be their best which was what she had wanted from the academy anyway. She had got this far in life without a friend, no reason why she would need one now.

They had a perfect rivalry, which only made sense as Jemma strived to do everything perfectly. So when they were paired together in chem lab Jemma wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Obviously, they would be the best pair, but she wasn’t sure how well they would work together, not when they had got so used to competing over the last few weeks. Perhaps it would be the start of an excellent working relationship, their professor certainly seemed to hope so.

Up close, she couldn’t help but notice how cute he was, a mop of uncontrollable dark blond curls along with a handsome, albeit boyish, face. He had piecing blue eyes too, but she rarely got to see them as he seemed to refuse to look at her. Or even talk to her. In fact, he managed to get through the entire first two classes without saying a word to her. He continued to volunteer answers to their professor but never said so much as hello to her.

She was fairly certain if he hadn’t been so completely rude and arrogant, she would have found herself developing a small crush. Which she most definitely didn’t have time for, so it was a good thing he was a complete and utter arse.

Their third class was a practical and finally he had to speak to her. As soon as they were allowed to get on with their experiment, he rushed out his hypothesis so quickly that she could barely understand a word he said, but he was beaming awkwardly at her, as if he had said the smartest thing in the world. Which just frustrated her more. After all, it was the same as her own hypothesis. She looked back at him, making it clear she was not impressed, and the smile vanished from his face.

They wrote down their hypothesis and drew out their tables for their findings and then set to work gathering their equipment. Everyone else around them were still discussing their hypothesis and variables and Jemma caught her professor smiling proudly to herself, as if she thought she had created the perfect match. And perhaps she had, it was just a shame Leopold Fitz was such an insufferable show off.

Once they had gathered all their equipment and the reactants, they carefully set up the experiment and before they knew it, they had a table full of data and were writing up their findings. They were finished long before anyone else, and their professor let them leave, saying she had no further work for them today.

They had both entered the corridor outside their lab, Leopold Fitz just seconds away from scurrying off, when Jemma decided it was time she took things into her own hands. If they were going to be partnered up for the semester, they needed to at least be able to converse with each other. She cleared her throat to get his attention and he span around to look at her. “I'm Jemma Simmons, biochemistry." She said extending her hand to shake his.

"Leopold Fitz, engineering." He answered awkwardly and reached out to shake her hand.

The moment their hands connected Jemma felt like her head had exploded, there was a cacophony of noise as suddenly she was no longer alone in her own head. She recoiled her hand and stared at Leopold Fitz in confusion. And he stared back at her, mouth agape. She hadn’t been able to make out anything that had been said, but the voice in her head had clearly belonged to him.

“What was that?” He asked. Jemma thought it was a rather stupid question; he must have at least had some awareness of soulmates? Surely, he was thinking the same things she was. That the universe was playing a very cruel trick on them. How could this intolerable boy be her soulmate? It was simply ridiculous. In fact, it was nigh-on-impossible. Statistically speaking, finding your soulmate at sixteen, was unheard of.

Surely there was another explanation for what had happened. Jemma drew a deep breath and reached out her hand to touch his again, where it still hung out in front of him awkwardly. Once again, she was met with a loud buzz of thoughts, even greater than before. Thoughts whipping around at a million miles an hour. “She’s touching me again. It’s so loud. What do I do? I can’t think. This is awful. Wait, can she hear me too?” His thoughts all raced through her, scrambling around her brain, knocking into her own thoughts. She could only bare it for a few seconds before she whisked her hand back. The second the contact was broken her mind was her own again. How could anyone enjoy having a soulmate? It was confusing, intrusive, and so, so loud.

They continued to stare at one another, neither sure what to do about the revelation they were sharing. “I think we’re supposed to be soulmates.” Jemma finally said. He nodded his head, his face still one of complete shock.

“What are we supposed to do?” He asked.

“I don’t know, I’ve never met anyone who has found their soulmate before.” She wasn’t even sure what it really meant to have a soulmate, obviously it meant they were supposed to be compatible, in almost every way. In the movies, soulmates would always kiss upon discovering their connection, but Jemma couldn’t think of anything worse. Just a few seconds of sharing her brain with his had been completely overwhelming, anything longer and she thought she might lose her mind completely. It wasn’t like she was suddenly in love with him or anything, she still barely knew him, he was still the annoying show off from moments before. No, she decided, she definitely did not feel any different towards him. “Maybe… we should get coffee?” She finally suggested. They had to talk about this, leaving things unsaid would drive them mad, and they could hardly avoid accidental physical contact as lab partners. He nodded and looked at his watch.

“I have the next hour and a half free. Do you want to go to the campus café?” He asked uncomfortably.

“Maybe we should get drinks to go and find somewhere more private to talk? Find a bench outside or something?” Jemma suggested, she didn’t want the whole academy catching wind of their soulmate status, they would end up being the centre of attention, everyone would want to study them. Nor did she want to invite a complete stranger to her dorm, soulmate or not. So, a quiet bench on campus seemed like a safe compromise. “Let’s just keep this between ourselves for now? Yeah? We don’t want to be turned into walking science experiments.” She added. He nodded and followed her towards the café.

They had managed to order their tea’s and find a suitable bench all without saying a word to each other. They sat in an uncomfortable silence sipping their drinks, as far apart from one another as the small bench would allow. They had both put their backpacks between them on the bench to provide a physical barrier, Jemma suspected he had found sharing thoughts just as unpleasant as she had. What would they do if they were working on an experiment together, holding a powerful chemical and accidentally touched? That seemed like a sure-fire way to end up with chemical burns or something equally terrible. “I think we need to find a way to get used to this or control it or something. Because otherwise this is going to be a disaster for our lab work.” Jemma finally said.

“Couldn’t we just ask to be reassigned?” He asked.

“And tell her what? If we say we’re soulmates they will want to study us.” Jemma asked, obviously the idea had passed through her mind, but she had quickly dismissed it. Telling their professor the truth was impossible and they would need a better reason than not getting on for switching partners especially when their professor seemed so pleased with the match.

“Would that be so bad? Then maybe we can get some answers?” He asked. Of course she wanted answers, she had wanted to know more about soulmates most of her life, but handing themselves over for all of Sci-Tech to analyse would be a terrible mistake. What if they were taken out of the program and made to spend all day being studied? They were already stared at enough just for being the youngest, they didn’t need this to add to that. Even if they were allowed to continue with their studies, they would never be treated normally. It was such a rare thing, especially when they were so young.

“And become lab rats? Poked and prodded all day long, never to be able just get on with our own studies?” She questioned him, how had he not thought this through? Maybe he wasn’t the genius he thought he was…

“Do you really think they’d do that to us?”

“It’s what I would do.” Jemma admitted. He looked rather appalled at that. “The pursuit of science comes before the individual.” She added. “Or so S.H.I.E.L.D. says anyway. Feels a bit different when you become the individual though… But that doesn’t mean we can’t try to study ourselves. Find our own answers and be in control of the process.” All they would need was access to the labs after everyone else had gone home, it didn’t seem impossible, they could come up with a reason for needing the labs after hours. Perhaps use their age to their advantage and say they didn’t feel comfortable around the other students using the lab outside of classes. They could figure something out. Yes, they would need to have a cover, work to show their professors, it would slow them down a bit, but it would be worth it to gain answers.

She told him her idea and although he seemed a little reluctant, he agreed. They made a plan to ask their professor if they could use the lab after hours tonight and then fell back into silence. It was weird, more than weird actually (absurd maybe, but perhaps that wasn’t even strong enough) that she could simply reach out and touch him and hear his innermost thoughts, if she chose to do so, and he in turn could do the same. And as overwhelming as it had been, she kind of wanted to try it again. “Leopold, do you think we could touch hands again? This time with warning and maybe we can see if we can actually communicate something.”

He gave her a look she couldn’t decipher before reaching over and touching her hand. “Please don’t call me Leopold, just Fitz is fine.” He told her with his mind. He removed his hand as soon as the thought was over. “Is your mind always so noisy?” He asked.

“Is yours?” She retorted. He shrugged.

“Doesn’t seem noisy to me.” He took another sip from his drink. “It was hard work, you know? Thinking a clear thought with all your noise buzzing around my head.”

“Sorry?” Jemma said, not sure how to respond. “Can I try? Sending a message?” He nodded and held his hand out to her again. “You can call me Jemma or Simmons, I don’t mind.” He was right, it was difficult, like wading through treacle. She had to order her own thoughts and try to ignore his thoughts swirling around her head and any responses she wanted to make to them. “Maybe it will get easier with practice?” She wondered aloud.

“Yeah, maybe…”

They spent the next half an hour sitting next to each other awkwardly, Jemma tried talking to him, but he didn’t ever respond with anything more than the bare minimum. Jemma suggested they practice a bit more, communicate with their newfound power and Fitz obliged. But each time he only sent messages containing observations. “There is a bench over there,” or “That’s an oak tree.” To which she’d told him it was a Bur oak, she had started to tell him about their drought-resistant properties but quickly stopped herself, reminding herself that few people ever found her tree facts interesting.

Despite their telepathic practice, it didn’t get any easier, although Jemma supposed half an hour really wasn’t much time to get used to it. They exchanged dorm room addresses and Jemma said she would come by around 8pm if she got approval for them to use the lab tonight and then they parted ways to get to their next classes. Jemma found her concentration rather limited throughout the rest of the day, what her professors had to say hardly seemed interesting after discovering her soulmate. Whatever that even meant.

True to her word she had got permission to use the lab after hours and knocked on his door at precisely 8pm. They quietly made their way to the lab and set about prepping the MRI machine to get some brain scans. First, they would scan their brains as normal and then they would each get a scan, whilst the other held onto their ankle and sent them telepathic messages. Much to their disappointment the scans didn’t reveal much, recording only slightly increased activity compared to when they were just thinking to themselves. And by the time they had collected their useless data it was time to do the work they had claimed they had needed the lab for. Fitz cleared the MRIs history so that only they had a copy of the scans and then they set to work on their assigned task.

Working together in the lab was rather awkward. Jemma had never been good at small talk, in fact, she just wasn’t overly good at talking to people in general if it wasn’t about science. She had always tried to be friendly but for the most part people either found her intimidating or annoying, or in the case of older peers, both. She had worked hard over the years, trying to come off as friendly and approachable, to make up for the lack of common ground between herself and those she met, but no matter how hard she tried, it always seemed impossible to recover from the initial resentment her peers usually felt towards her. Her mere existence, so obviously younger than everyone else around her, generated bitterness and anger amongst her peers. But she refused to compromise herself, refused to dumb herself down, and so they ended up hating her, despite her efforts to smile and make herself as friendly as humanly possible.

And really, when so few people gave you the time of day, it became hard to know what to say and do in a social situation. She was trying, asking him what classes he was in, where he had grown up, where he had gone to school before the academy. But his responses were all monosyllabic. It seemed to Jemma, that where her peers’ disdain for her had caused her to try and win people over with kindness, it had caused Fitz to retreat into himself and present a tough exterior.

“What about your family?” Jemma asked, running out of conversation starters. How could someone so smart have so little to say?

“What about them?” Fitz asked after a moment.

“What are they like?” Jemma asked, fighting to keep her demeanour cheery and not let the frustration she felt escape into her tone of voice or body language.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Fitz’s jaw tense up while he worked next to her before he shrugged. “I dunno. My mum’s wonderful, never has a clue what I’m on about though. Tech’s not her thing.”

“My dad’s a GP and my mum’s a biology teacher and even they don’t know what I’m talking about half the time.” She said with a smile, she loved her parents, they always wanted to know what she was working on but often she strayed out of even their considerable range of knowledge. She wanted to ask about his dad, find out where he had got his brains from, but the way he had bristled when she mentioned her own father and had left him out of his answer made her think better of it. “What was your dissertation on?” She asked instead, hoping that perhaps he’d be more forthright if they talked about academia.

And she was right, all of a sudden, he was rambling on about his work on drones and miniaturising their components and how to reduce the noise they made for stealth purposes. The words tumbled out one after the other, about how drones were the future, how they would be used in different sectors, courier services, CCTV, search and rescue, photography. He even hoped to design one that could fly over other planets to generate detailed maps of their terrain. His hands moved wildly as he spoke, using gestures to aid his explanation, and he beamed at her every time she asked a question or offered a suggestion, especially when it came to a drone that could collect forensic data.

His smile was rather infectious, and she couldn’t help grinning back at him as they discarded their work and he frantically started writing and drawing down their combined ideas on forensic data analysis.

It was only when both their voices were hoarse that they realised the time, it was 2:13am and they had been in the lab together for over five hours. As they packed up, he asked her about her own Ph.D., to which she asked, “Which one?”

Fitz froze while shoving papers into a folder and gave her an incredulous look. “Which-? You have more than one? How old are you?” He spluttered.

Jemma blushed a little before answering. “I completed my second back in June and I just turned sixteen in September.” She said, trying not to come off as smug, just proud of her hard work.

“Bloody hell.” Was all Fitz said as he resumed packing his papers and folders away. “Here I was rambling on about drones and you’ve got two Ph.D.’s under your belt already. Next time we meet, you’re telling me all about yours, okay?” He asked with a genuine interest that no one outside of her immediate family and tutors had ever expressed. He didn’t seem jealous or anything, just completely and utterly impressed. “How the hell did you have time for that?” He asked.

“Well, I started university at eleven, got my masters done that year, and then spent two years on each. What about you?” She asked, not wanting to seem like she was bragging.

“Err… well my da-… I ah, I wasn’t allowed to… I didn’t skip any school years until I was ten, so I went through primary like normal, then finally I got to secondary and they let me skip straight to Standard Grades, that’s like your GCSE’s, did that in a year and then my Higher and Advanced Higher, that’s your AS and A Level’s, the next year, so I didn’t go to university ‘til I was thirteen.” Jemma couldn’t believe what she was hearing, he’d been forced to go through all of primary school as normal?

She fought her features to not display her shock and horror. But she couldn’t help herself from asking, “Why?” It rolled off her tongue before she could stop it. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t understand why you couldn’t move up faster, was it the school? The council?” She asked, she was being nosey and she knew it, but she couldn’t help herself. The idea of being stuck in primary school for all seven years… well she couldn’t imagine how mind numbingly boring it would have been. She’d only been there for three years; she had started in Reception but by Christmas had been promoted to Year 1 and by the spring Year 2. The following year she had completed year 4 and the year after that, year 6. By seven she was at secondary school and even then, she once again skipped ahead, completing seven years of education in just four.

“I just didn’t okay?” Fitz said, his grumpy mood from earlier returned, as he made his way to the door.

“Sorry. I just… well I imagine you found primary as boring as I did, I couldn’t imagine having to stick it out. I didn’t mean to push.” Jemma said awkwardly, they had been getting on so well until she had put her foot in it. “And really, your achievements are just as impressive as mine, it’s not your fault you couldn’t start as early as I did.” Jemma said trying to get them back to safer waters.

“Yeah, I guess.” Fitz muttered as they made their way out of the labs and on to the quad. Clearly, she had hit a nerve, he wasn’t even accepting of her compliment, which she had been sure would bring him back to his happier mood, especially with how competitive he had been before today.

The following day, as Jemma sat outside eating her lunch alone on a bench as usual, she heard the sound of jeering and cans clattering. She turned to see a group of older cadets taunting Fitz and throwing rubbish at him. “Mr know-it-all, think you’re so much better than all of us, well come on then, see how much better you are outside the safety of the lecture hall!” One ridiculed.

Before Jemma knew what she was doing her legs were marching her down towards them, anger seething out of every pore. “Leave him alone!” She shouted, she had meant to come off as at least a little scary, enough for them to back off and reconsider now that there were two of them. But instead she sounded like a petulant child and they all fell about laughing.

“Awww, look, he needs the other baby to protect him.”

“Come on mate, don’t be mean.” Another said in mock sympathy. “Course he needs a girl to stand up for him, his balls haven’t even dropped yet.” The cadet cackled. Another round of cans and rubbish were thrown before someone spotted a professor and they dispersed, still laughing and calling them both names.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it worse.” Jemma said quietly after they were all out of earshot. Fitz just stood there, jaw and hands clenched and a fearful look in his eye. “Would you like to join me for lunch?” She asked, pointing over to where she had left her bag and lunch on the bench. Fitz gave a small nod and silently walked over to the bench with her.

It was only when they were sat down that she saw some rubbish stuck on his collar. Gently she went to brush it off, her finger accidentally catching his neck. It was the briefest of contact, but she saw the image clear as day, a man shouting down at Fitz and throwing an empty can at his face. “I- I’m- I’m sorry.” She spluttered out in shock.

Fitz just buried his head in his hands, and she wondered for a moment if he might be crying. After a moment he ran his hands over his face and then through his hair. “I… umm… I’ll see you in class.” He said and gathered up his bag and walked away from her as fast as his legs could carry him. She wanted to follow him, ask him if he was okay, but she didn’t really know him, and he clearly wasn’t comfortable with her having seen what she had, so she let him hurry off.

Her entire afternoon was spent worrying about him, wondering if he was okay, if the older cadets had bullied him before, and who the man had been from his memory. When he didn’t arrive for their chemistry class she knew he was definitely not okay. She just wished she was able to provide him some comfort, even if it wasn’t strictly her place to do so, what with them only really having formally met the day before. Although, they were supposed to be soulmates, so perhaps it was indeed her place.

It was that trail of thought that led her to his dorm after chem lab rather than her own. She was just about to knock on the door when she heard his voice from behind the door. “I already said I’m fine Mum, I just wanted to hear your voice, to talk, can’t I just call up without ulterior motives?” There was a pause, she assumed he must have had a mobile phone and be waiting for his mother’s response. “Would you rather I only call you at our regularly scheduled time?” He teased. “I thought not, honestly, what mother complains about her son calling her?” Another pause. “I know, I know. I promise I’m fine.” There was a longer pause, Jemma was starting to feel guilty about eavesdropping when he spoke again. “Yep, yep, tones of ‘em. Everyone’s great. There’s this one girl in my chem class, Jemma, I think we might make good friends.” He said awkwardly. “I know, I know, I’m not calling ‘cause I’m lonely, I promise, I’m fitting in really well.” There was a slightly guilty tone to his voice. “Yeah alright, I’ll let you get to bed… I love you too.” As awful as she felt for listening in to his private conversation, she felt like she’d learnt a lot about him, he was the kind of person to call him mum after a bad day, but didn't let on how bad it was, so as not to worry her.

She was just deciding whether or not to come clean to him about overhearing some of his phone call when the door swung open. She did her best to look casual but there was no hiding the fact that she had been stood outside his door. “Hi Fitz.” She said cheerfully, trying to compensate for her awkwardness. “I was just coming to check if you were okay, what with you missing chem lab and all…”

“Did you… were you listening to my call?” He asked, going rather red after the initial shock of seeing her wore off.

Well she couldn’t lie to him out right, now could she? “I… Yes. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I was just about to knock and then I heard you talking and… I’m sorry. My mum says eavesdropping is one of my worst traits, that and being overly nosey, which I guess you already figured, although I suppose eavesdropping is being nosey really... I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… it just happened.” She said lamely.

“I uhh… I don’t make a habit of lying to my mum, it’s just she worries a lot.” He said, clearly more worried about how she would view his white lies than her eavesdropping. “I was just going to the loo, but you… uhh… you can come in if you want, I won’t be a sec.” He said, opening the door wider so she could come in before rushing off to where she presumed the communal toilets were. His dorm was a little disorganised, textbooks and blueprints scattered over his desk, chest of draws and stuck to the walls but it was mostly clear of dirty clothes which was a pleasant surprise, especially for a teenage boy.

A little unsure of herself, she sat herself down on the sofa, which had some rather obnoxious Manchester United merchandise hung up behind it. The wall opposite held a large picture of Charles Darwin and da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man. On his bedside table was an open sketch book which seemed to have some sort of drone sketched on it. As Jemma continued to observe her surroundings, trying to build a better picture of Leopold Fitz, she heard him trapes back into the room. He awkwardly hovered by the door for a moment before gently pulling it shut, watching her as he did so, before moving to the seat at his desk. Unsure of quite what to do Jemma pulled out her notes from chem lab. “I made a copy of my notes for you.” She said as she passed them over to him.

“Oh, uh thanks.” He said with a surprised smile. “Did, uhh... did you want to… I mean, if you have the time, and don’t mind, maybe you could go over it with me?”

She never got round to asking him if he was okay, but she got the distinct impression he really didn’t want to talk about it. He did however seem to appreciate her company, or at least that she had thought after him, and he was certainly keen to go over all that he had missed in chem lab.

After going through her notes Fitz asked about her dissertations. It had just gone nine when she heard Fitz’s stomach rumble and he confessed to being beyond hungry, Jemma simply smiled and suggested they find somewhere to eat.

They found a little burger joint not too far off of campus and Fitz continued to ask her questions about her dissertations, to the point where she almost felt like she was defending them again, but in the best way possible.

Fitz could hold his own in both biology and chemistry despite neither of them not being his chosen field and she couldn’t help but smile as he asked her what further research she would like to conduct. By the time they had finished their burgers she was sure they would make excellent lab partners, their minds just worked so well together, each filling in where the other had a gap in knowledge.

But it wasn’t until they started talking about the recent announcement of a Doctor Who revival that she knew they would be good friends. Which she supposed was silly, after all they were soulmates. Not that they had discussed that…

Which she thought they really ought to, finding out what his expectations were for their relationship, was probably the most pressing. But she was having such a lovely time she didn’t dare ruin it. The closest they came to discussing their soulmate status was simply arranging to meet the following day in the lab again, and to continue to run experiments and tests.

Their second meeting in the lab turned into a third and soon they were meeting twice a week in the lab to run experiments on themselves as well as practicing their telepathic communication. Despite their self-study and practice he never actually discussed what being soulmates meant to him and Jemma half thought that maybe he didn’t know that it was supposed to be a romantic connection. But then she hadn’t brought it up either so maybe that was a harsh conclusion. And seeing as they went to great effort not to touch unless they were practicing and sending a specific message, she really didn’t have any insight into what he thought about it all.

Despite their complete inability to actually discuss their connection, they continued to practice sending messages and soon they could send each other thoughts with ease. By the time Christmas rolled around they could even send an image to one another if they concentrated hard enough. Jemma had considered asking him about the accidental image she had received from him the day she had seen him being bullied but, in the end, she kept her mouth shut, it seemed personal, the kind of thing he should bring up rather than her press for answers.

As their skills at communicating grew so did their friendship, it felt natural, effortless really. She finally had someone to be herself around. Jemma had started to believe they must be platonic soulmates, if such a thing existed. Fitz had never shown any interest in her outside of friendship and although he was cute in a very boyish way, she wasn’t sure she was particularly interested in much more either. Besides, having a real friend for the first time in her life was more than enough.

So, when Paxton asked her out on a date, she didn’t see any reason to say no, he was attractive and muscular and although nowhere near Fitz’s intellect he had got into the academy so he couldn’t be a complete idiot. Fitz on the other hand had been a little strange about it, but she wouldn’t call it jealousy. “But he’s twenty-two Jemma, what does he with a sixteen-year-old?” He had asked.

“Maybe he thinks I’m interesting, attractive and mature for my age? Is that so hard to believe?” She had snapped back, causing him to flinch. She hadn’t meant to respond with quite so much force, but she was excited about her date and couldn’t understand why he wasn’t happy for her. It wasn’t like there was anyone else their age around so of course there was going to be a bit of an age gap, but she was mature for her age and used to being around people older than her, so really what difference would it make?

Chapter Text

Jemma’s date with Paxton had gone well, okay maybe not well, but it had been fine. He was a little boring, it had to be said. But he was also rather attractive, and he was interested in her, so that was something. He’d also bought her wine, which technically she wasn’t supposed to drink, but really a glass wasn’t too bad. And she hadn’t wanted to draw attention to her age, make him think she wasn’t mature enough for him. So she had drunk the wine without question. And one glass had turned into two, which had turned into three and she was now feeling rather buzzed. Which made the boredom easier to tolerate.

She’d had the odd glass of wine back home before, a small glass with dinner at her grandparents or something, but other than that, she really had no experience with alcohol. But so far it seemed rather pleasant.

As they stood outside her dorm block, he leaned in and kissed her. It was her first kiss, and she wasn’t quite sure what to do with her mouth but ever the fast learner, she quickly responded in kind to his lip’s movement. His skin was rough, and he tasted like the steak he had eaten at dinner, but it was nice enough.

“Do you want to come in?” She asked nervously. He nodded.

The second they entered her dorm his lips where on hers again, more passionate than before. She hadn’t even had a chance to turn the light on, they were illuminated only by the streetlights coming through her window. He kissed her feverishly, on her mouth, her jaw line, her neck, anywhere he could.  As his hands and lips roamed her body, she began to wonder if asking him inside had been a mistake.

He pushed her down onto her sofa and had one hand wrapped around her back before she could even process what was happening, the other hand starting to work its way up her thigh and under her dress.

It was all getting a bit much. She pushed him back gently. “Let’s just slow down a minute.” But he kissed her again, more forceful this time and his hand skimmed her knickers. This time she shoved him. “Get off me!”

“Oh come on Jemma, don’t be a tease.” He said as his fingers played with the edge of her knickers, threatening to slip under at any minute. Jemma felt almost paralysed with fear, this could not be happening.

“Stop, right now.” She told him with all the strength she could muster. “I told you to get off of me!” He finally pulled away from her, but his hand was still on her hip, sending terror through her body.

“You were the one who invited me in, you frigid bitch.” And with that, he was gone.

Jemma let out a sob and scrambled off the sofa and shuffled into a corner on the floor, legs hugged to her chest. Her dorm door hung open and she could hear his footsteps trail off into nothing, cancelled out by the background noise of the dorm corridor. She was alone, she was safe. Her mind was racing, but at least he was gone.

Or so she thought, until she heard rapid footsteps run back up the corridor. A shadow appeared in the open doorway. He had come back. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, and she reached for something, anything, to hit him with.

“Simmons? Are you okay?” It was Fitz. She let out a loud sob in pure relief. “Can I come in?” Another loud sob ripped through her and she realised she was trembling. Fitz’s hand reached round the door frame and switched the light on. The moment he saw her sobbing on the floor he rushed towards her and sank down next to her. “If he hurt you, I swear I’ll kill him.”

Jemma just cried, reaching out for him, needing to be held, needing to feel safe. The moment their skin touched, she could hear him in her head, responding to her thoughts as she unwillingly replayed the moment again and again in her head, unable to escape its memory. She could hear his shock and furious anger. “I’ll kill him.” He said pulling away, ready to hunt him down.

“No, please. Just stay with me Fitz.” She managed to get out through her sobs. He sank back down and pulled her into a tight hug. They had never shared their thoughts like this before, freely and without a specific message or purpose. Normally if they touched it was to deliberately test their connection or send a private thought or two in class, this time the shared thoughts were just a side effect of him holding her.

Slowly but surely the world started to make sense again, her heartbeat slowed back down, and the memories stopped replaying in her mind. Fitz murmured and thought words of comfort to her, grounding her back to reality.

“How did you know?” She wondered as she realised how odd it was that he has shown up just when she needed comfort the most.

“I heard you.” He said. “In my head. I didn’t know exactly what was going on, but I knew something was wrong, I could feel that you were scared. So I came running.” He had heard her without any physical contact? And he had come to help her. A flutter of affection washed over her and she buried her head in his chest.

He had been right, of course he had been right. What had a twenty-two year old man wanted with her? Just sex apparently, a trophy to be added to his shelf. How had she been so stupid? “Hey, don’t think that. You’re not stupid.” He said gently against her ear. “I’m sorry it didn’t go the way you wanted it to, I’m not going to say ‘I told you so’.” He said as he rubbed gentle circle along her back.

She wanted to protest, she had been stupid, completely and utterly stupid. Taken in by the idea of an older man being interested in her. But she was too tired to play mind games with herself and with Fitz projecting nothing but affection and affirmation to her it was hard to argue. So  instead she hugged him tighter, thankful that she had him in her life.

As the evening drew on, she became more anxious about the idea of sleeping. She tired her best not to think about it, to not let Fitz hear what she wanted. She didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable or pressured. But the idea of facing the night alone was unbearable. “Would you like me to stay?” He asked nervously, clearly she hadn’t managed to guard her thoughts well enough. She didn’t answer, of course she wanted him to stay, but how could she ask him to, they had only been friends a few months and she wasn’t sure if it would be weird or not. “It’s okay Jemma, you shouldn’t be alone tonight.” With that the matter was sorted, they separated briefly while Fitz stood outside her dorm to let her change, with him insisting that he would be fine sleeping in his jeans and t-shirt. It was selfish, she knew, but she was glad he didn’t go to his dorm to change, it was hard enough just being alone for a minute while she changed out of her dress and put on comfortable pyjamas. There seemed to be a silent understanding between them, without a word he joined her on her bed and held her. It was strange, trying to fall asleep with someone else’s consciousness in your head, hearing his thoughts fade away as he fell asleep. Soon she could hear his dreams like they were her own while he slept. Sleep seemed impossible for her, her body still on high alert, but it was reassuring, knowing he was there, it made her feel safe.

When she finally fell into a fitful sleep in the early hours of the morning, it was littered with dreams, reliving the horror of what had happened. Except her dream didn’t end with Paxton leaving and Fitz arriving.

She woke up with a strangled shriek. Fitz startled awake next to her. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s me. You’re safe, I promise.” Fitz said as he crawled over to join her at the edge of the bed were she now perched, hugging her knees to her chest. He reached out a hand, probably just to hold her arm or bring her into a hug, but all she saw was Paxton holding her close, against her will. “I’m sorry.” He said with a slight yelp as he withdrew his hand as if he’d been burned by her flinch. “What do you need? How- how can I help?” He asked as Jemma fought to get control of her breathing.

“I want my mum.” She choked out through her sobs. She knew it was pathetic, she wasn’t a little girl anymore and she had always been independent, but right now she wanted nothing more than a hug from her mum.

“Okay, okay.” Fitz said as he got up and hunted around for her Nokia. He returned with it, her mother’s number ready to call and held it up to her ear. Jemma took the phone and drew in a deep breath.

Her mother answered after a few moments. “Jemma darling, I’m at work and class is about to start, can I call you back later?” Just hearing her mum’s voice set off a fresh wave of tears. “Jemma? Are you alright?” She asked in alarm. But Jemma couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t find any words, which only caused her mother to panic more. “Jemma, what’s going on?”

Fitz gently took the phone from her hands and brought it up to his own ear. “Hello Mrs Simmons, this is Leo Fitz, Jemma’s friend.” He said awkwardly. “She umm… she had a bit of a difficult night and wanted to call you.” Fitz paused and Jemma could hear her mother hounding him with questions but couldn’t make out what they were over her own continued crying. “She’s- she’s safe I promise, she just needs some… uhh motherly comfort. I’m sure she’ll tell you what happened when she’s ready. I’ll hand you back over now.”

“Jemma darling, you’re scaring me, please tell me that you’re alright? Did this Leo boy hurt you?”

“It wasn’t him.” She managed to say in between haggard breaths. The last thing she wanted was her mum to think Fitz had been anything other than extraordinary.

“Then who?”

Jemma breathed deeply and took a moment to gather herself before she told her mum what had happened. Fitz sat himself down at her desk and she could see his knuckles turn white as she told her mother what had happened. “I’m sorry Mum, I was so stupid.” She half expected a long lecture about safety and men, but instead her mum just offered her words of comfort and support. Telling her all she had to do was say the word and she and her father would fly out immediately. It was tempting, she really did want a hug from her parents, but they both had important jobs and it would cost a small fortune, so she reassured her mum that she’d be fine, and they needn’t worry. By the end of the call Jemma felt somewhat herself again and promised to call again during what would be the evening for her parents. “I love you too, bye.” She said with a small smile. Tears were still slowly falling down her cheeks, but her hysterics had calmed. Her mother wanted to talk through her legal options later when she called again but Jemma wasn’t ready to think about any of that. She just wanted to sleep.

“Feeling any better?” Fitz asked. Jemma nodded. “Did you still want me to stay?”

“If you don’t mind?” She said, not sure if she could handle his rejection. All she wanted was to curl back up in bed with his arms around her again, and hopefully this time she would sleep without the nightmares.

“Course not.” He smiled and carefully made his way back to the bed. “Did you- before, when you woke up, you didn’t want me to touch you… I can sleep on the floor if you’d like?” He asked as he stood awkwardly in front of her.

“No.” She said far too quicky. “I mean, it’s okay, that was just because I was disorientated from the dream.” Fitz nodded and gently climbed into bed, still careful not to touch her. He lay down on his side facing her, still not touching her. Jemma didn’t want to seem needy, and they were just friends after all, and friends didn’t typically hold each other as they went to sleep, but she did desperately want to feel safe, held tight in his arms once again. So she wriggled forward, hoping he would take the hint and oblige her neediness, just for tonight. She searched his eyes, wanting to see if he understood. She shuffled forward once more and to her relief he met her in the middle, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her close. It was absurd really, they’d only known each other a few months but he already felt like home.

“You feel like home too.” He thought back as he gently nuzzled her head and pressed a careful kiss to her forehead. Tucked into his arms she finally fell into a peaceful sleep, undisturbed by dreams or bad memories.

She woke to the sensation of Fitz’s chest rising and falling as he breathed in his sleep. His arm was wrapped around her, holding her close to his side and her cheek nestled against his chest. And for the briefest moment she wondered if this was how they were supposed to be, they were soulmates after all. She shook the notion out of her head, they were best friends, and she wouldn’t change that for the world. And there was nothing wrong with him providing her physical comfort after the night she had had.

Carefully she rolled over and checked the clock. It was 6:26am, four minutes before her alarm was due. Fitz let out a little groan at her movement and stretched out as he slowly woke up. “Morning.” He mumbled as he scrubbed his hands over his face and wiped the sleep out of his eyes. “How you feelin’ this morning?”

“Better than last night.” She said as she sat up, her legs hanging over the edge of the bed. “I just want to forget about it, get on with my day.”

“Wha- don’t you want to report him? Tell your residential adviser at least. If not the police?” Fitz asked as he sat up and joined her on the edge of the bed.

“And then what? There’s no evidence, it’s just my word against his. And he didn’t really do anything, not really.” The thought of reliving the moment again and again made her feel sick.

“Didn’t do anything? What are you talking about? You were- you said no and he didn’t stop right away, it’s that simple.”

“Fitz just leave it.” Why couldn’t he just let her deal with it in her own way?

“What if he does it to someone else? What if he doesn’t stop at all next time.”

“I’m not responsible for his behaviour Fitz!”

“I didn’t mean that, but Jemma, the not knowing, it’s going to eat at you.” He insisted, frustration bubbling under his urging tone.

“What would you know?” She asked, getting irritated with him.

“I just do, okay.” He said, his mood darkening. Jemma looked at him and the frustration left her. “Just think about it, at least? Please?” He grew more sombre and rubbed his face. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to tell you what to do, and I will support whatever you choose, I just want you to really think it through, make sure you’re making the right choice for you.” He said, all frustration from before having left his voice.

“Okay.” She answered. His eyes were sad and his hands fidgeted in his lap. “I just don’t want to have to think about it again. If I report him, then I’ll have to talk about it… Mum wants me to report it too. I just… what if I go through all that, and then nothing happens, what if no one believes me.”

“I know what happened, I can be a witness.” Fitz offered.

“And tell them what? That you felt me panic in your head? That’ll only cause more problems.” She reasoned.

“Well, we can figure something out.” He said softly.

“Maybe…” She murmured. “I just don’t want everyone knowing. It’s mortifying.” She thought to him as his arm brushed against hers.

“I know.” There was something about the way he spoke that made her believe that he really did understand, not just empathise, but truly knew how she felt, from experience. “But they don’t need to know, not everyone, just the police and whoever handles things like this here.”

“Something happened to you too, didn’t it?” She asked softly, hoping that she wasn’t overstepping.

“My… my dad. He would shout at me a lot, throw things. Never hard enough to leave much of a mark or anything but… but enough to scare a kid. Enough to leave me terrified that one day he’d really snap and do something drastic.” He said quietly whilst looking at his lap. “I never told anyone, not even my mum. Not until long after he left us, anyway.”

“I’m sorry.” Suddenly the image he’d accidentally shared with her when the older cadets had been throwing cans at him made sense, it was a memory of his father. She couldn’t get the image out of her head, of a small and terrified Fitz being yelled at by his cruel father.

“My point is, I never told anyone, and I don’t know if he’s gone on to hurt anyone else. If I’d said something, not only would it have helped me, but it might also have helped others in the future. But I was too scared. I don’t want you having to live with that regret.” Slowly he raised his head and met her eyes. “It’s your choice, and I know you didn’t ask for my opinion and I know it’s not exactly the same but…”

“Thank you.” She said with a small smile. “If you… if you ever want to talk about it more, you know you can talk to me, right?” She offered gently.

He nodded and smiled sadly at her. “Same to you…” He wrapped her in a sideways hug before speaking again. “You want to go to class today?”

“Yeah, yeah I do. I just want to get on with things. You can go back to your dorm, I’ll be okay.”

Fitz was reluctant to part ways, but she managed to convince him that she would be okay. She had allowed herself one night of neediness, now she needed to deal with it on her own. He promised to meet her for lunch, and he offered to come study with her after both their classes were done for the day.

As she got ready, she couldn’t help but feel anxious every time she saw her sofa, memories resurfacing every time she caught a glimpse in her peripheral. Not wanting to spend a moment more than she needed to in her dorm, she left fifteen minutes early and found her way to her residential adviser’s office. She hadn’t decided what to do yet, she wanted to understand what she was getting herself into before she made a choice. The RA ran her though the complaint process and she got the distinct feeling that really, she didn’t have a case at all, without physical evidence she had no hope of him being held accountable.

As she left the building feeling more conflicted than before a hand reached out and pulled her down the alley between two dorm blocks. She let out a small scream before a large hand covered her mouth, cutting the shriek off. “What were you doing with the RA?” Paxton asked in a hushed but aggressive voice as he shoved her back against the wall. Her head thumped against the wall with a crash. “I didn’t do anything. You telling them I hurt you? You were the one who invited me up, you should’ve known what that meant. Not my fault you’re a kid playing adult and got in too deep! What did you tell them? Huh?” He snarled, sending terror through her. The second he removed his hand to let her speak she let out a scream as loud as she could, which earned her another rough thump against the wall.

But her scream had been heard and cadets came running to see what was happening and pulled him off of her. Her heart was pounding and her head spinning. She wanted to slip away and get to class but everyone had their eyes on her, insisting she go to the infirmary. Before she knew it, she was being escorted there by a group of older female cadets. She was still there when the police came for a statement, but all she could think about was how she was missing a lecture she had been looking forward to. She hated telling them everything that had happened, she felt so stupid for having invited him in, for having thought going out with someone six years her senior had been a good idea. And most of all she hated how panicked it made her feel to remember it all, how scared she felt despite it all being over.

The nurse wanted to keep her for observation, make sure she didn’t have a concussion, but she managed to persuade them to let her go in time for lunch, promising to return if she had any symptoms. She made her way to the canteen, feeling as if she were drifting through the crowds. She sat down at her and Fitz’s usual table and sat in a daze. Everything had happened so quickly, she suspected she had mild shock.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sat there when Fitz joined her, one moment she was alone, the next Fitz was sat in front of her. “Hey Simmons, how are you feeling?” He asked as he organised his tray of food in front of him. “Are you alright? Not eating?” He asked as he took a bite of his bagel. When she didn’t answer he took his eyes off his food and looked at her. “Are you okay?” She gave a small nod. “Jemma? What’s going on?”

“I- I’m fine.” She said but she knew as she said it that it didn’t sound convincing.

“I can walk you back to your dorm, if you’d like? Missing a few classes won’t hurt.” Fitz asked, starting to stand up.

“No, no, I just want to get on with my day.”

“Jemma, it’s okay to be upset about what happened, you don’t have to pretend you’re fine, not with me.”

“I don’t want to go to my dorm.” She said quietly. She hated it, but the thought of being back in her dorm made her skin crawl. She didn’t even want to see her dorm block.

“Okay, then were?” Fitz asked, his eyes searching hers. His hand slowly reached across the table to touch hers and as his fingers brushed over hers the dam broke. Her lungs gasped for air and her body shook as the tears rolled down her cheeks. Fitz’s face went from one of concern to one of panic and anger as her thoughts caught him up on what had happened that morning. “I’m going to kill him.” He thought but quickly stopped himself when she only grew more upset. “Sorry. Come on let’s get out of here.” He thought as he gently pulled her up. “Do you want to- I can take you to the counsellor?” Jemma shook her head, she didn’t know where she wanted to go, but the last thing she wanted was more strangers plying her with questions.

Unsure where to go Fitz brought her to his dorm and sat her down on his sofa and gently rubbed her back while he hugged her until she had finished crying. She hated how upset she was and how stupid she felt at being so upset, when really nothing much had happened.

“It’s not stupid Jemma.” He said as he hugged her tighter. It was strange, normally they avoided physical contact unless they were practicing their telepathy or wanted to say something without others knowing, but in the last 24 hours they had shared more hugs than the rest of their friendship combined. She couldn’t help but wish they could share them more often, without the whole uncontrollable mind reading included, it was just uncomfortable knowing you could hear everything the other thought. “Sorry, didn’t mean to violate your privacy…” He said after hearing her own thoughts and pulled away.

“That’s not what I meant. I just… sometimes I wish we could just be normal.” She said, tucking herself back into his side.

“Me too.” Fitz said after a moments silence and carefully positioned himself so that their clothing blocked their skin from touching while he held her. “And I meant it, it’s not stupid to be upset about this. What he did was sexual assault, you know that right? Just because he stopped eventually doesn’t mean what he did was okay. He should have stopped the second you said so. And really, he should have checked you were okay before he even started kissing you like that. And then today he physically assaulted you. Don’t make excuses for him.”

“I’m not making excuses. But, worse things happen to a lot of people, I don’t think I should be this upset.”

“You think I shouldn’t have been upset when my dad called me stupid and threw beer cans and books at me just because some people’s dads beat them with belts and sticks?” Fitz asked with a frown.

“No of course not!” She rushed out.

“Then grant yourself the same understanding.” He said with such a piercing gaze that she nuzzled her head back into his chest to avoid his eyes.

“When did you get so wise?” She asked as she lent her head on his shoulder.

He nudged her affectionately. “What do you mean ‘when’?” He said with mock offence. “I’m a certified genius I’ll have you know.”

Fitz stayed with her the rest of the day, when her parents called her she put the phone on loudspeaker and he helped her though the conversation, updating them on what had happened. And afterwards, instead of going to their respective classes, they watched old Tom Baker Doctor Who episodes, huddled together on his sofa.

-x-

Fitz supported her all through the investigation and the countless meetings she had to attend, and he celebrated with her when Paxton was kicked out of the academy. He held her hand when she had bad days with flashbacks, and he seemed to know just when to push her to be brave and when she needed a day curled up watching Doctor Who or some other comfort tv show or movie. He had been her rock and she wasn’t sure she would ever find the words to truly thank him. That was one way in which she found sharing thoughts with him helped, when she didn’t have words, she could show him her feelings. Let him feel the gratitude she felt towards him.

Their psychic connection continued to grow, being able to send each other more complex thoughts and feelings, even sending whole memories in detail on command if they concentrated, but they had never been able to replicate the connection without touch like they had that evening. In the end they arrived at the conclusion that it must have been a defence mechanism, built in so they could protect each other.

Eventually she found the courage to attend a few more dates, which was how she met Milton, he was nineteen and he was kind. He treated her right and she felt safe with him. Sure, he wasn’t as interesting as Fitz, but then nobody was. But she felt safe with Milton and he seemed like a good person to take the next step with.

So they slept together, and it was good… but she couldn’t help thinking that it was a shame she and Fitz weren’t romantically compatible, she imagined sex would be a great deal better with the compete intimacy of sharing your thoughts and feelings with your partner. But it wasn’t Milton’s fault, so she tried her best to forget about it and enjoy what she had.

The following day Fitz didn’t turn up to their holographic engineering class, which was unlike him. Nor did he meet her for lunch at the cafeteria, which was even more odd. By the evening Jemma was increasingly worried about him, if he was ill he would have called or sent her an text. It was like he was avoiding her. She ended up in front of his dorm, gently knocking on the door. “Fitz, are you in there? Are you alright?”

“I’m a little busy right now Simmons.” He replied, sounding very strange.

“Are you okay?” She asked, what could he be so busy with that he couldn’t open the door? She heard a sigh from the other side of the door and Fitz opened it, albeit looking rather reluctant about it.

“See, I’m fine, I just have a few things to deal with, that’s all.” He refused to meet her eyes as she spoke.

“Have I done something to upset you?” She asked, growing worried. “If I’ve done something, please tell me?”

Fitz’s face grew red and she was tempted to reach out her hand and find out exactly what was going on, but that felt wrong. Just because you could read someone’s mind, didn’t mean you should. He dragged his hands over his face before fully opening his door to invite her in. She sat down awkwardly on the edge of his bed, while he paced uneasily back and forth in front of her, what had gone so wrong since she last saw him?

“Uh… I really don’t know how to tell you this.” He paused his pacing momentarily before beginning again, more frantically. “You remember how I could hear you, the night with... Paxton?” Jemma nodded her head, unsure where he was going. “Well, it wasn’t so much that I could hear you, rather feel you, feel what you felt, to a degree at least. And well… it happened again… last night.” He said awkwardly.

“Oh no.” She covered her mouth with her hand as the shock of his revelation flowed through her. He had heard her having sex with Milton. Not just heard her but felt what she had felt. “No, no, no.” She couldn’t think of anything more mortifying. “I’m so sorry Fitz.” No wonder he had avoided her all day. What if this happened every time either of them had sex? That would be beyond awful.

Of course, it did kind of make sense, soulmates were typically of a romantic nature so sharing the experience even more deeply with one another made sense, but for them, well it could very easily destroy their friendship entirely. He couldn’t even look at her out of embarrassment.

“So my hypothesis is that the more time we spend together, the easier it is for… more heightened thoughts and feelings, sensations even… to be accidentally transmitted. And seeing as we can’t even figure out how to do it consciously, I don’t really see a way of stopping it. Unless, that is, we spend less time together. If our connection is like a muscle that needs training, then if we let it get lazy and flabby then accidental… transmissions won’t happen.” He rambled on, going redder as he spoke.

“You’re saying if we want to be able to have… relationship’s outside of each other, then we need to stop spending so much time with each other, stop communicating with our thoughts?” She couldn’t think of anything worse.

In the end it was an easy decision to break up with Milton, yes he was kind but he was also rather boring and incapable of independent thought. And just one day without Fitz had been unbearable, she couldn’t imagine not seeing him every day, and once Jemma realised she’d rather have a stimulating conversation with Fitz than sleep with her boyfriend again she knew the choice she had to make.

It took a while for their relationship to recover, Fitz was intensely awkward around her for a good few weeks and she was embarrassed by the whole thing too, even though it hadn’t been anyone’s fault. There were a lot of stifled and forced conversations, conversations that focused primarily on their studies and nothing further until the tension finally started to melt away. It took a lot of effort on both of their parts, but finally things started to fall back into place between them.

That was the start of their unspoken agreement not to date. It was a relief to Jemma that Fitz also seemed to find her more important than pursuing romantic relationships, after all, other people were just rather boring, even at the elite academy they were head and shoulders above many of their peers.

So instead, they continued spending almost all of their time together, doing their academy work, running every test on themselves they could think of and continuing to work on their telepathic abilities. And when they weren’t studying, they would just hang out together, to the point where those around them started to call them Fitzsimmons, as if they were one person, which she didn’t really mind, he was her best friend after all. And they were far better together than either of them could ever be apart.

Chapter Text

After less than two years at the academy they were already ready to graduate, Jemma was four months away from turning eighteen and Fitz three months. They were the youngest graduates ever; it was quite the achievement. To celebrate, they took two months off to go traveling together, to finally explore the country they had been living in for nearly two years and then, on their return, they would officially become agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and join Sci-Ops.

They bought an old car (that needed constant repairs along the way) and took off driving across the country. The trip started properly in Chicago, they enjoyed the city for a couple of days before setting off for Route 66, stopping off at every and any place that caught their attention. One would drive, while the other read from various history books and guides to educate themselves about the places they drove through.

Fitz made it his mission to eat as much as he could the entire trip, finding bizarre eatery after bizarre eatery. Jemma couldn’t help herself from scolding him every time he ate his body weight in sugary snacks, but neither could she help the wave of affection that ran through her every time he shrugged her concern off with his ridiculously goofy smile.

Their trip culminated in a week in California, spending two days at Disney, and a day traveling along the coast, taking the longer route via Monterey to Yosemite Valley. The long winding roads seemed endless, they’d stop every so often to switch over driving duties and to take pictures at various vista points along the route. They then spent two days hiking different trails in Yosemite, taking in the beauty of the valley before finally driving to San Francisco where they spent the day seeing as many sites as they could before finding a used car dealership that would take their car off their hands so they could fly home. All in all, the trip was amazing, and reaffirmed to Jemma that their bond didn’t depend on science, they could have just as much fun singing along to The Beatles in a beat-up car, as they could in a lab.

Once back home, the reality of working adult life set in. Studying themselves in secret became impossible at Sci-Ops, they were under too much scrutiny, too many levels of checking and rechecking. Despite their combined intellect and unprecedented early graduation they were still low-level agents and had to earn respect and trust, just the same as everyone else. It was frustrating, but they had never found anything substantive in their two years at the academy so maybe it was a fool’s errand anyway. They could however continue practicing their connection outside of work and perhaps that was the important bit. They were trying to work up to communicating without touch, they knew it was possible, they just had to figure out how to do it on purpose.

They spent the majority of their free time together, they would watch movies and documentaries, go for walks or just read up on the latest scientific journals whilst lounging on the sofa together. One of Jemma’s favourite things to do with Fitz was to cook, neither of them were particularly gifted in the cooking department, but they had fun together and usually ended up with something tasty.

One evening they were cooking together after a long evening of reviewing research; Jemma had just nipped to the toilet while Fitz got the meal ready to be dished up.  Jemma was drying her hands on the towel when her brain was invaded by Fitz, crying out in shock and a brief burning sensation covered Jemma’s wrist. “Fitz? Are you okay?” She called out as she hurried out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen. She found Fitz running his wrist under the running tap, cursing to himself.

“Sorry, just caught my wrist on the tray.” He said apologetically.

“I know. I felt it too.” She beamed while waving her wrist at him, to which Fitz scowled. “Obviously I’m not glad you hurt yourself, but this is progress, right? Pain is something we can easily replicate until we figure out how we’re doing it.” Jemma started excitedly.

Fitz just looked at her like she had grown a second head. “We are not deliberately hurting ourselves to try to communicate without touch.”

“Well, what do you suggest then? We’re not making any progress with our current methods.” So far, the best they had come up with was to sit next to each other and think really hard about sending the other a thought.

“If anything, this is proof that we are making progress, pain from a burn if far less intense than… the circumstances of the other two times.” Jemma considered what he said, he had a point, and continuing with their current method seemed better than deliberately causing injury to themselves, even if it would potentially be slower to achieve results. So, she agreed to persevere with their current method, at least for a little while longer.

-x-

They were celebrating finishing their first year at Sci-Ops, with a few not so legal drinks in their system, when they next shared thoughts without physical contact. It wasn’t as dramatic as the previous times and later they would wonder how much the alcohol they had consumed had loosened up their brains and influenced what had happened.

Fitz had just announced that he really should get going, it was late, and their parents were visiting the following day. “I wish you’d stay.” Jemma thought to herself.

“Jemma? Did you just… I heard that and your mouth wasn’t moving and we’re not touching, I’m not so drunk that I imagined that right?” Fitz asked in amazement.

“No, I definitely didn’t say anything.” Jemma said, a little embarrassed that her thoughts had betrayed her neediness.

They spent the next hour drunkenly trying to recreate the shared thought, drinking more as they went until they both ended up asleep on Jemma’s sofa, slumped on each other. The consequences of their heavy drinking quickly made themselves known the following morning, making their brunch meeting with their parents a trial, both trying to conceal their hangovers from their families and those around them in the restaurant.

“Leo are you sure you’re feeling alright?” Jemma’s father asked.

“Mmmhhmm.” He answered around his mouthful of pancake. Without the benefit of makeup, he really did look rather ill and exhausted. His physical appearance along with his short answers and constant rubbing at his head, meant he wasn’t putting on a very good display. If their parents hadn’t assumed that they were two well behaved soon to be nineteen-year-olds who wouldn’t possibly drink whilst underage, she was sure they would have been busted. Thankfully Fitz managed to shake off her father’s concern and the conversation moved on.

“Oh Jemma, do you remember Sheila Turner down the road? You tutored her eldest?” Her mother started. “Well you’ll never guess, but she met her soulmate, up and left her husband of twenty-three years! Can you imagine. Poor John... twenty-three years of marriage and she leaves him for someone she’s known five minutes.” She said with a sympathetic frown.

A wave of panic shot through Jemma, she avoided talking about soulmates as much as possible. Despite her and Fitz spending almost all there time together and frequently using their telepathic connection, they never actually referred to themselves as soulmates or even talked about it.

“I don’t know, if you had the opportunity to be with the very person made for you, wouldn’t you take that opportunity?”  Fitz’s mother asked.

“But to destroy a perfectly good marriage? A family?” Jemma’s mother countered.

“Well, we don’t know it was happy, do we?” Her father added. “You never truly know what’s going on inside someone else’s marriage.” Then her father turned to look at Fitz. “What do you think? If you found your soulmate, would you give everything up to be with them?”

Fitz turned even paler than he already had been. Jemma brushed her hand against his wrist. “Act normal!” She thought to him. His jaw tightened and he sent her back a wave of frustration.

“I uhhh… I don’t know, I suppose those without soulmates can’t really comprehend what it’s like for those who have found theirs.” He answered, a slight sweat breaking out on his forehead.

It wasn’t that they didn’t trust their parents with their secret, they just didn’t want to risk it, it could put their parents in danger, and anyway, it didn’t seem overly important most of the time. That and the inevitable bombardment of questions, made the whole idea very unappealing.

His mother rolled her eyes. “That’s a bit of a copout. Use your imagination.”

“I think we shouldn’t judge other people’s lives and sit around gossiping about them.” Jemma said firmly. “Fitz and I want to go on a trip, but we can’t decide on where to go.” Jemma said, swiftly redirecting the conversation, reluctantly their parents let the subject go and discussed their travel plans instead.

-x-

As time went on accidental communications became more and more common until it actually got rather annoying for them both, randomly being invaded with mundane thoughts from the other. “I must remember to get some more loo roll” was the winner of the most boring thought accidentally shared between them. It took another year after their drunken shared thought before they finally started to get some control over the communications they shared. Fitz could update her on a shared project from the other side of the room or Jemma could ask him if he was done for the day and ready to leave the lab. They spent the next year working on expanding the distance they could communicate over and the complexity of the thoughts shared, as well as the ability to block the other from sharing their thoughts with them, which acted as a fail safe for the occasional unwanted connection. And by the time of Jemma’s twenty-first birthday, they finally felt like they had mastered their connection, when they touched there was still an uncontrollable free flow of consciousness between them but when they didn’t, they had complete control of what they shared within a five-mile radius. And seeing as they were so infrequently further apart than five miles, they had little reason or opportunity to test if further. With greater control of their powers, dating once again became a possibility without any accidental oversharing. However, Jemma still couldn’t find anyone who was able to keep her attention for longer than a few dates. And neither it seemed, could Fitz.

They were careful when communicating at work, they didn’t want any other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents realising they were soulmates, they were still fearful of what would happen if that was revealed, not to mention the fact that they had kept it a secret all these years. Every year agents had to fill out a questionnaire and one of the questions was whether they had found their soulmate, and every year they ticked the ‘no’ box.

Life continued on in a blur of inventions and analysis, their work was interesting and rewarding but Jemma couldn’t help but feel that something was missing. That wasn’t to say that Jemma wasn’t happy to spend her life side by side with Fitz in a lab, it was just that something was always niggling away at her, but what it was that was leaving her unfulfilled, well she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. That was, until the day they were called into a meeting with an agent who they had been told had died in the battle of New York the year prior.

“Relax, it’s no big deal, He’s just an agent.” Jemma thought to him as they approached the glass conference room.

“Just an agent? Have you not heard the stories about-”

“Yes, I heard the stories. Don’t be weird.” She thought to him, sending her best firm ‘voice’. “Hi.” She said to the agent at the door as she showed him her badge. They introduced themselves to Agent Coulson, and in an attempt to stop their nervousness feeding each other they closed off their telepathic communication. When he referred to them as ‘Fitzsimmons the brain’ they both winced at how close he had come to the reality of their situation. And when he mentioned their unauthorised bio-fuel demonstration they couldn’t help but bicker, Fitz unfairly blaming the failure on her. As he whispered for her to shut up, she started to shift the argument to their thoughts, and she was sure she would have won if Agent Coulson hadn’t interrupted them, calling for her mind to focus solely on him. When he announced that they were being recommended for his field team Jemma couldn’t help but buzz with excitement, this was it, this was the challenge she had been missing. But she could feel Fitz’s hesitance in her head and stopped herself from accepting right then and there. They left the room, their minds abuzz after their meeting.

Once they had left, she desperately wanted to discuss it with him, but she knew better than to interrupt him whilst he was thinking through a big decision. So they walked back to her apartment in silence. “Did you want to come in? We can talk about the offer, about going into the field?” She asked as they stood outside her apartment block.

“Uhh, I think I’ll head back to mine actually, got some thinking to do.”

“Right…” She said with a small nod, trying not feel too disappointed. She knew Fitz wouldn’t be as excited as her, what with his reluctance towards change, but she hoped he would come around to the idea. Afterall what other opportunity would they have like this one, to see the world while helping people, to be the ones who came up with a solution in an emergency, everyday a new and exciting problem to solve. She couldn’t wait.

But she wouldn’t go without Fitz.

She was just settling into bed when she heard Fitz’s voice in her head. “Jemma? Are you still up?”

“Yeah.”

“I know you want to go but I’m not sure I can do it. I like our lab, I like the work we do. I don’t need to throw danger into our work to feel satisfied.” She forced the disappointment in her to stay where it was and not reach Fitz.

“But Fitz, it’s the most perfect opportunity for us to see the world. We’d be fools to pass this one up. Everyday a new adventure, new problems to solve.” She answered back trying to channel her excitement and not her exasperation with him. “Opportunities like this, they don’t come around often, not for scientists, we’d be out there, seeing our work save lives, solving problems on the fly. It would be so intellectually stimulating. We’ll have fulfilling work and get to travel the world, no more begging for vacation days and trying to get them to allow us to take time off together. We’d be out there, everyday seeing the world.”

“And putting our lives in danger.” Fitz thought grumpily.

“Not necessarily, we’ll still be in the lab.” She insisted.

“Which one is it, that we’ll see the world or we’ll be safe in a lab?”

“Well, both… look there will be a bit of danger, but we’ll have a full team to look after us, I’m sure we won’t be in any real danger, and besides, life is full of risk. And this adventure will be worth it.” She let her excitement rush out of her and into him, hoping it might persuade him.

“You know, we don’t have to do everything together, you could go without me.” He thought back, trying and failing to send her feelings of reassurance.

“No. We’re a team. And besides, he asked for Fitzsimmons, he wants both of us.”

“I’ll give it some more thought.”

“Okay. I want you to go, but not just for me, I want you to want to go. Not feel pressured.” She added, as much as she wanted to go, she didn’t want to force him. It wasn’t like she was unhappy with their current work, she would get over her disappointment.

“I know. Night Simmons.”

“Goodnight.”

By the end of the week Fitz had come around to the idea, and although he did seem genuinely excited about it, she sensed a fair bit of hesitancy and worry in him. She just hoped he would enjoy it once they got there, after all it was an opportunity like no other.

Chapter Text

Jemma had known the field would be more stressful than their labs at Sci-Ops and the academy, she had known there would be an element of danger, but she hadn’t expected it to be quite so life and death right from the get-go. For lives to be put in their hands on day one. Neither had she expected to be held hostage on week one. Or to be doing eye surgery with a live bomb.

But the biggest surprise was the team itself. Jemma had long since given up on making friends outside of Fitz, and honestly it didn’t really matter anymore, Fitz was more than enough. But they had both found themselves bonding with the team, Skye especially, and what with living and working in such close quarters it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep their connection a secret. They didn’t like lying (or omitting as Jemma always reminded Fitz, after all none of their teammates had ever asked them if they were soulmates) but their team would have been obligated to report it if they told any of them. Well, except for Skye, seeing as she wasn’t actually an agent, but still, it wasn’t worth the risk.

As much as Jemma liked Skye, even thought they were fast becoming good friends, she couldn’t help but bristle at Fitz’s not so discreet crush on her. Really it was just unprofessional. And distracting when they were working together, freely sharing their thoughts and then she would come in, completely distracting Fitz from his work. Fitz, for his part, would try to shut down their link before any thoughts got to her. He had suggested they set the rule that they only shared thoughts when on their own so as not to be suspicious. Which was a convenient excuse. He probably thought he was being subtle.

So, when the team discovered Skye’s secret boyfriend, a part of Jemma was hopeful that would be the end of Fitz’s crush. But in typical Fitz fashion he was fast to forgive, and she couldn’t fault him for that, not really. One morning, not long after, she could hear him talking to Skye, trying to flirt in his own weird way.

“We spoke the same language, you know?” She heard Skye say, presumably talking about Miles.

“Yeah, yeah, a bit like we do.” Fitz responded.

Jemma supressed a sympathetic chuckle, honestly, he was hopeless. “Totally. You and Simmons are so tight.” Jemma swallowed down another laugh at how Skye had misinterpreted Fitz’s comment. “It’s like you’re psychically linked. Like those soulmates you hear about.” Skye said with a soft chuckle. That set alarm bells off in Jemma’s head and she could hear Fitz nervously spluttering as she entered the lab.

“Actually no, no, I don’t think so.” He stammered out.

In that moment Jemma decided the best course of action was distraction rather than rushing to deny it. She told Fitz as much mentally before entering the room and saying. “So Ward was here? Let me guess, the Night-Night pistol again?” Her diversion worked and the conversation shifted back to safe waters. But she mentally scolded herself and Fitz, telling him they must be more careful.

But all the worry about Skye catching on was washed away when she was given the job of autopsying two corpses with unexplained deaths. It was rather thrilling putting all the puzzle pieces together. The floating bodies, the exit wounds with no sign of entry wounds, the electrostatic spikes that would grow until the moment of death and then completely disappear. Nothing made sense and if it weren’t so gruesome then she wouldn’t feel so bad about the fact that she found it all rather exciting.

When she discovered that the cause of death was an alien infection, well, she knew coming into the field had been worth it, she knew that if anyone was capable of finding a cure, then it was her. What she hadn’t bargained for was contracting the virus herself.

She had been telling Coulson about her discovery of the nature of the virus, the way it was transmitted through electrostatic shock and how ground-breaking it all was, when she noticed he had left the room.

“I’m so sorry, Jemma.” He said as he sealed her into the labs built-in quarantine. The alarms went off and Coulson quickly left to brief the team upstairs .

Jemma did her best to concentrate on her breathing, focusing on stopping her thoughts from reaching out and finding Fitz, the last thing he would need was to feel her panic on top of hearing the news from Coulson, or even worse, before Coulson had a chance to fill him in. She set to work, compiling the data she had already collected and looking at different antiserums and how she could apply how they worked to the alien virus that was inside her, attacking her cells. She didn’t get very far though.

 She could feel Fitz, the moment Coulson told him, she could feel the anger and grief and confusion as it poured out of him. He had never been as good as she was at controlling what they described as ‘emotional leakage’. When the emotions you felt were so great, they went racing off in search of the other. Jemma supposed, evolutionary wise, it made for a great defence mechanism, being able to call your mate to your aid. But it didn’t seem overly helpful in the modern environment that they lived in. She needed to focus, not have her mind clouded by Fitz’s feelings. He came sprinting down the stair’s moments later, almost colliding with the glass doors.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, anger behind his words. “Why did I have to hear this from Coulson? You should have told me.” She had guessed he would have wanted to hear it from her, for her to reach out and tell him, but how could she? How could she tell him she was dying and she was the only one capable of finding a cure?

“Because I need to focus, and emotions are not helping me with that.” She thought back to him, unable to speak for fear of breaking. The rest of the team were making their way down the stairs, and she gave him a stern look. “Do not go giving our connection away. We don’t need that on top of this.” And with that she got back to work.

“How can I help?” He asked, reigning in his vortex of emotions with considerable effort and giving her peace to think.

He set to work on his side of the glass, working on a delivery mechanism for an antiserum that didn’t yet exist, and she got to work on her side, doing what she could to create one. It wasn’t long however before she had to stop, her progress dependant on the delivery mechanism being finished. So, she sat down against the glass, with Fitz sat the other side and waited for him to finish. With nothing to occupy her mind, her own mortality flaunted itself in front of her and it took all her concentration to stop the storm of anxiety in her mind from reaching Fitz’s. Neither of them dared to think anything to the other, incapable of separating the desired communication from the fear and stress swirling around their minds. So instead, they sat silently, whilst the rest of the team talked about them, about her impending fate, just the other side of the glass.

When he was done, Fitz put his device into the quarantine delivery airlock. “I believe we have a winner. Fast and efficient, the perfect delivery mechanism.” Fitz said in a voice that she supposed was intended to sound hopeful, but what came out of his mouth sounded forced and worried. Jemma took the device silently, if Fitz was right, her survival now rested solely in her own hands.

Her already dwindling hope took a drastic hit when the second rat died from the antiserum. Both their minds exploded out in doubt and fear. They dragged their thoughts back into their own minds, one set of emotions was more than enough. “That wasn’t very cooperative of him now, was it?” Fitz joked, trying to elevate their moods.

It was over, Jemma knew it and surely Fitz did too. She simply didn’t have enough time. She was going to die and bring the rest of the plane down with her.

She didn’t mean to snap at him, she really didn’t but he was the only one there and her anger and pain needed an outlet. And Fitz responded in kind, his nerves just as fried as her own, and desperate for the failure to not be his fault.

“Hey, it’s not the device! Don’t, hey, don’t put this on me! I was doing just fine, tucked away in a safe, indoor, non-mobile lab at the academy. Then you had to go and drag us into this flying circus!” He shouted, his anger rushing out of him and into her. “Didn’t even pass our field assessments, for god’s sakes.” He said a little calmer but the resentment behind the words hurt her more than any shouting could.

“Oh, please, as if I forced you to follow me anywhere.” She bit back. But she wasn’t even sure she believed it as she said it, perhaps she had pushed him into the field.

“You said, and I quote, ‘Oh, Fitz, it’s the most perfect opportunity for us to see the world! We’d be fools to pass this one up.’” He said doing his stupid, high pitch and squeaky imitation of her.

“I hate it when you use that voice. That’s not even how I sound. And you were just afraid of going into the field. And-”

“I’m not afraid.” He cut in. She had known that would hurt him, but she couldn’t help it, she was angry and scared and how dare he blame her for this situation, as if she could have foreseen an alien virus?

“- don’t you dare act like these last month’s haven’t been the highlight of your entire pasty life.”

“Pasty? Oh, really? Well, when did you become so sun-kissed?” He retorted. Jemma scoffed. “Because I’m pretty sure that every minute of every day, you’ve been stuck in a lab right beside me. At the academy, at Sci-Ops, this plane, you’ve been beside me the whole damn time.” As he finished the fight left both of them and Jemma turned around, unable to look at him anymore. “You have to fix this.” He said after a moment.

“I don’t know how, Fitz.” She continued on, putting a voice to all her concerns, all the things blocking her from creating a successful antiserum. No one had survived the virus so far, except the Chitauri… With that thought in both of their heads Fitz sped off to get epithelial cells from the helmet. He came running back in, less than a minute later, breaking the quarantine and entering the lab, helmet in hand. “No! Uh… you can’t be in here!”

“Too late. It’s done. Just try and do your best to keep your hands off me, yeah?” It was half a joke, but even without the threat of transmitting the virus, she suspected neither of them had the strength to share unfiltered thoughts and feelings with the other.

And just like that, they got a second burst of energy and enthusiasm, with Fitz by her side in the lab they could do anything, including making a brand-new antiserum in little to no time. They were both very aware of the eyes watching both them and most importantly the clock, ticking down and down. But Fitz’s unwavering belief in them kept her mind focused on the task at hand and not the onlookers and diminishing time.

They waited, renewed faith in their solution, as Fitz gave the antiserum to the final rat, but when the rat pulsed and died just like the two before it, Jemma knew all hope was gone. It was time for damage control. She asked for a moment alone with Fitz, knowing she would be granted it and set about making her exit. More than anything she wanted to hug him one last time, but it was impossible, not only did she risk contaminating him, but her plan would be revealed if their skin touched.

Fitz, still endlessly hopeful, set back to work and Jemma could feel her heart break as she lifted the fire extinguisher and hit the back of his head as hard as she could bare. She went to open the cargo doors, making sure to reseal Fitz in the quarantine. With one last look at Fitz, who was now screaming her name, she let the wind take her. Jemma put all her concentration into blocking Fitz’s attempts at reaching her, she did not want her last moments to be filled with the agony pouring out of him. Although blocking his thoughts was only marginally better, it was like someone frantically banging on the door to her brain. Blocking one another’s thoughts for any prolonged period of time always caused a nasty headache, but that was of little concern to her now.

Hurtling through the sky was beyond terrifying and the knowledge that soon she would smack into the water at terminal velocity offered her little comfort other than a quick death. She could still feel Fitz desperately reaching out to her, but she continued to barricade his thoughts from hers, she knew her death would destroy him. But he would live. And he would get over it. Get over her. Eventually.

As she spun uncontrollably through the air, the plane becoming smaller and smaller she saw a figure falling towards her. They were falling faster than she was, gaining on her and soon she could see that it was Ward, skilfully he brought himself level with her and grabbed hold of her. Before she had time to process what was happening there was a sharp zap to her thigh. Ward pulled the parachute string and they decelerated with such a force if felt like they were going upwards and then a pulse emitted out of her and everything went black.

-x-

Ninety minutes later she found herself hovering outside of Fitz’s bunk, he had been there when she was first brought back onto the plane, sopping wet from the sea, but he hadn’t come up to her or said anything, he had just watched her anxiously from the lab doorway whilst she had rushed off, desperately in need of a warm shower after having spent half an hour floating in the sea with Ward, while Coulson had negotiated with the Moroccan office to get someone to go and retrieve them from the water.

She gently knocked on his door, unsure what response she would get from him, would he be mad at her? “Come in.” He said quietly. She pulled the door open and smiled gently at him, he was sat on his bed hugging his pillow. He looked as exhausted as she felt. He let go of his pillow and shot up to wrap her in a tight hug. “Don’t you ever do that again.” He thought as he hugged her. In his embrace she was bombarded with his emotions, his relief, his anguish, his frustration, but most of all just his intense affection for her. It was all rather overwhelming.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t let you die too.” She thought back to him. She detached herself from his hug, unable to bare any more of his raw emotions along with her own.

“I’d rather us both go out together than you leave me like that.” He told her, his voice unwavering.

“You don’t mean that.” She told him. But she was a little worried that he did indeed mean it, but whether he thought that or not, she knew he would get over her, he would find a way of continuing on and living, and that was better than them both dying. “I am sorry though, I should have let you in and then I would have known it worked and then I wouldn’t have ended up in the ocean.”

Fitz’s jaw twitched. “Why didn’t you?”

“I couldn’t bare hearing you, my own panic and fear was quite enough.” She left out the bit about how she thought hearing him would have broken her heart and that there was no way she’d have been able to go through with it if she’d let herself hear his pleas.

Fitz stiffly nodded his head. “I’m just glad you’re okay, that’s the important bit, but if something like this ever happens again, which I really hope it doesn’t, but please believe me when I say that we’ll fix it together. Please don’t give up again. I was ready to jump out after you, you know? Just Ward appeared and took over… If Ward hadn’t got you in time, and I had to live knowing you’d sacrificed yourself for nothing, well I don’t know what I’d have done.”

“Well let’s just be glad we don’t have to find out.” Jemma said softly, she wanted to touch him, hold his hand or something, but she didn’t feel emotionally ready for sharing his brain again.

“I was going to do it.”

“I know you were.” She said softly.

“I had the antiserum, the chute, everything. I just couldn’t get the straps on.”

“Fitz, please.”

“And, you know, maybe I couldn’t have done the whole James Bond in mid-air type thing-”

“Fitz, shut up.” She cut him off. It was too much, the thought of him jumping out after her, of him putting himself in danger, the thought of him not catching up to her in time and having to witness her death or worse still, him catching up but something going wrong and them both ending up dead… it was unbearable. “Please, just…” And the fact that he was self-conscious about it, thought he hadn’t done enough for her, well she needed to make him see sense. “Ward did an amazing thing, yes. But it wasn’t Ward by my side in that lab, searching for a cure. It wasn’t Ward giving me hope when I had none. It was you. You’re the hero.” She said with a gentle nudge.

“Yeah?” The smile that broke out onto his face warmed her heart.

“Yeah.” She said with a soft smile, hoping he understood just how much he meant to her, how much his actions today had saved her, time and time again. “Thank you.” She said, her two words letting him know that their argument was forgotten, they had both said things in the heat of the moment, borne out of their shared terror of losing each other. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “You saved me.” She thought to him as her lips pressed his soft cheek. The rush of emotions from him was once again overwhelming and she resisted hugging him tight. Instead, she squeezed his leg, protected from his thoughts by his jeans, and headed off to her own bunk, more than ready to fall asleep after the exhausting day she had had.

Chapter Text

The following week they found themselves at the Hub. Coulson, May and Ward were off dealing with their classified mission briefings, which left herself and Fitz to enjoy the excitement of the Hub. There were lots of exciting new gadgets to check out in the labs whilst they were there and Fitz made quick work of getting his hands on a few goodies that he had been excited about.

But after a small battle with an automatic door Fitz was called in for a meeting with Coulson and Ward which sent a small pulse of alarm shooting out off each of them. Fitz promised he’d keep her in the loop as he walked off with them and soon Jemma was left with Skye, trying to keep a conversation going audibly with Skye and mentally with Fitz.

Which went as poorly as she had expected, she told Skye her distraction was due to worry about Fitz, which wasn’t a lie, but she quickly excused herself to the toilets, patiently waited for Fitz to find out exactly what he had been called in for. Fitz went quiet for a moment before reopening communication. “They’re sending me to the Caucasus Mountains with Ward. We have to deactivate a device to stop a separatist uprising.” Jemma’s blood went cold.

“What? Why?”

“We’re the right people for the job, apparently. You can’t let on that you know Simmons, I don’t know what they’re going to tell the team. You can’t start acting worried or anything. And you don’t need to worry, we’ll be fine. Jemma, I can hear you worrying, stop, it’ll be fine.” It was not fine.

The idea of Fitz on the other side of the world was not something she could simply not worry about. They had barely been apart since they had first met, they always travelled home to the UK for the holidays together. After their first year they had even visited each other’s families, they would go to Fitz’s mums for Christmas and then go to Jemma’s family for New Years one year and vice versa the next. The idea of not being near Fitz, not being able to reach him physically or mentally was a good cause for panic. “Jemma, it’ll be fine, look we’ll talk about it after the team gets briefed.” And with that he cut their connection and Jemma was left on her own.

Once back on the Bus they had their team briefing, which did nothing but worry her more. She knew her anxiety was frustrating Fitz, that he thought it meant she didn’t believe in him. Which was nonsense, of course she believed in him, it was just he was going into very dangerous territory without backup, and she would have no way of knowing if he was alright. She desperately wanted to hug him, cling onto him for every second she had before he left, but she knew flooding him with her anxieties wouldn’t help him, he needed to believe in himself and needed to know she believed in him too, and touching him, letting him in on her never-ending list of concerns would not accomplish that.

As she helped him pack, she was careful not to touch his hands and concentrated on keeping her anxieties from accidentally reaching his mind. She had made him his favourite sandwich whilst he had been in his private briefing, and she beamed at the smile he gave her when she gave it to him. That was what she needed to hold onto for the next 24 hours, his smile.

As he turned to leave his bunk she grabbed his wrist, careful of his bare hand and pulled him into an awkward hug. In his coat, Jemma had reasoned, it was worth risking a hug, it would be possible to hold him and not touch his skin. Both of them carefully avoided any skin-to-skin contact but held each other tight, clearly Fitz didn’t want to hear her worries as much as she didn’t want to share them. “You’ll be careful?” She asked him as she held him.

“Yeah, I’ve handled worse.” Worse being her jumping out of a plane to her presumed death… Jemma did her best to push that thought down, one crisis at a time was more than enough. They pulled apart and before she knew it, he was leaving the Bus with Ward.

“I know you can do this.” She thought to him as he left the Bus, of course she did, it was ridiculous to think otherwise, but that didn’t stop her worrying about him. He didn’t say anything back, but she could feel the warm glow within him that her comment had inspired. They didn’t say anything further, but she could feel his presence, like she had since they had mastered their connection, feel him getting further away as their connection was spread thinner and thinner, until she had to really concentrate on sensing him at all. It was about half an hour after he had left the bus that she realised she could no longer feel him at all, could no longer reach him. Their connection had been severed though distance. They were cut off for the first time since their connection had grown strong enough to always feel the other.

She hadn’t realised how used to his presence she had got, just feeling him, knowing he was near, even when they were apart. But now there was nothing, a blackhole in her head that was usually occupied by him. And she couldn’t help but worry. What if he didn’t come back, what if she never felt his presence again? What would she do without her best friend in the entire world? Tears were beginning to prick behind her eyes and she fled the lab, leaving Skye mid-sentence.

Skye quickly found her clinging to Fitz’s pillow in his bunk. “Hey, he’s going to be okay.” She said softly.

“You don’t know that.” She said through her tears. “You can’t plan for everything, especially not for this kind of mission.”

“I trust them. They’re going to look after each other. We just have to be patient. It’s going to be okay.”

“But I can’t feel him.” She sobbed before she knew what she was saying.

“What?” Skye asked, confusion written all over her face.

“Nothing.” Jemma spluttered.

“What do you mean? You can’t feel him?”

“I just misspoke, please just drop it, Skye.” Skye fixed her with a hard stare. “Please?”

“No…?” Skye said as the gears turned in her head.

“Please Skye, don’t.”

“You really are, aren’t you? Oh it makes so much sense. I knew you two had a connection, but The Connection? I mean-” Jemma shot up and covered Skye’s mouth with her hand. She pulled her into the bunk, and pulled the door closed.

“Skye, you can’t say anything.” Skye mimed zipping her lips shut. “I’m serious, no one knows. No one.” Jemma couldn’t believe it. How had she been so stupid? Half an hour without Fitz and she had told someone she barely knew their biggest secret.

“How long?” Skye asked. Of course she would have questions.

“Ten years…”

“I knew you two weren’t just friends, is there like a regulation against it? That’s why you keep it secret?”

“What? No. We really are just friends.”

“But you’re soulmates?” Skye questioned, as if Jemma had just told her the sky was green and the grass was blue.

“Yes?”

“You’re telling me, that you’re part of the teeny tiny percentage of people who find their soulmate, the person you were made to be with, and you… you what? Decided you would just be friends?”

“We never decided anything. I don’t know, we just never saw each other like that.” Sure, at the very beginning she had wondered if things would turn romantic, but they never did, and it seemed to work perfectly well for them. Why couldn’t they be platonic soulmates?

Skye just laughed. “I’m sorry but there is no way that’s true.”

“It is.” Jemma insisted.

“Jemma you’re gorgeous and Fitz was what, sixteen when you met? There is no way he had purely platonic thoughts.” Skye said, trying to supress her laugh so no one would hear them.

“It’s true, I can hear his thoughts, if he had feelings for me I think I would know about it.” She insisted.

“All his thoughts?”

“Only when we touch, otherwise, if we’re close enough, we can choose what we share, for the most part anyway, if the emotion is particularly strong then we might share it by accident. It took a long time to share thoughts without contact though, we had to practice a lot and then we had to practice even more to get control of it. But we’ve pretty much mastered it now.” She didn’t mean to share so much, but now that she had started it was hard to stop. She’d never been able to talk to anyone other than Fitz about this before. And it was quite the relief, to finally have someone else that she didn’t need to hide from.

“How often do you touch to share thoughts?”

“Not too often. It’s a bit overwhelming.”

“There you go then, he could easily have hidden it.” Skye said, clearly already having made her mind up and unwilling to see sense.

“Nonsense, I would know.” Skye looked at her doubtfully but let it go. “You can’t say anything Skye, I’m serious. Not even our parents know. Every year S.H.I.E.L.D.  sends out a declaration form and every year we said we didn’t have a soulmate. If S.H.I.E.L.D. find out they’ll think we were spying on them or something, they won’t trust us and will want to run experiments on us, we’ll never see the outside of a lab again. Please Skye?”

“I promise, your secret is safe with me.” Skye said with sincerity, squeezing her arm gently. “And I have a plan to get some answers about our boys.”

-x-

One poorly executed plan, a not so authorised file search and unsanctioned flight later they were on their way to rescue Ward and Fitz, who as it turned out had been sent in without an extraction plan. Jemma felt sick with anxiety and the closer they got to their supposed location, without feeling Fitz’s presence in her mind, the more tense she grew. Finally, as they decreased their altitude as they got closer to the extraction point, she could finally feel him again. It was like gasping for air after swimming multiple lengths underwater. “Fitz, we’re here to rescue you.” She thought to him, but he didn’t seem to hear her, his mind was a buzz with adrenaline and the distance between them was still too great for him to be able to hear her without concentrating. She repeated her message until finally he heard her.

“Jemma?”

“It’s me, we’re here.”

“Oh thank goodness.” The relief that flooded through her was a mixture of his and her own. They were so close to being reunited, but now was the most dangerous part for Fitz and Ward. They had to deactivate the Overkill Device and then get to safety, which was complicated by the alarm that was triggered by disabling the Overkill Device. Fitz was far too busy concentrating on staying alive to guard his mind from hers, meaning that all his emotions were broadcasted straight to her brain along with a few runaway thoughts, usually a string of expletives, every time the stress of the situation peaked.

The fifteen minutes between regaining their connection and actually seeing him aboard the bus were absolute agony. But finally, he was there, stood in front of her, all in one piece, although a little dirty and ruffled. Jemma fought hard to keep the wave of emotions from rushing out of her and overwhelming him, he had had quite enough stress for one day, without her adding to it.

“Well done, Fitz.” She said, trying to seem normal, pretend she hadn’t been out of her mind with worry the entire time he was gone. “So glad you’re all right.”

“Yep. Good to see you, too.” He said with equal resolve not to let emotions get the better of them. If they could get through the last two weeks intact, Jemma was confident they could get through pretty much anything.

Chapter Text

The next few weeks introduced them to an Asgardian and a ghost that wasn’t really a ghost. And just when Jemma just felt like she was getting her head around the absurdity of her day-to-day life, Coulson was kidnapped, and their world turned upside down in a completely different way. Agent Hand commandeered the Bus, and they were swarmed by agents, all joining the effort to track down Coulson. The stress was getting to them all, but it had brought out a particularly worrying side of Fitz. She could feel the anger and frustration boiling off him, but the most worrying part was when he told her he was perfectly fine with killing the centipede soldiers, the enhanced soldiers who Coulson’s kidnappers were controlling and forcing to do their dirty work.

The casualness of his statement worried her. “Fitz you don’t mean that. Those soldiers are just men-”

“Who can smash your skull open with a single punch.”

“But they’re being controlled.” She countered. “Centipede is making them fight against their will.” Surely, he didn’t mean what he was saying. She wanted to reach forward and touch him, to find out for certain, but they had long since agreed that that was an off-limit use of their connection. And if she was honest, she was more than a little worried about what she might hear.

“Well, they took Coulson. I don’t care what we have to do to get him back. We need to bring him home.” Of course, his loyalty was the cause of his dark thoughts. Before she could respond Ward interrupted them, frustration clear in his voice also.

“We can’t lose ourselves in the process of finding Coulson.”  Jemma thought to Fitz as Ward spoke. Fitz fixed her with a tense stare before returning to his work. He didn’t say any more about more permanent solutions to the centipede soldiers, instead he got on with designing a delivery system for her dendrotoxin.

It was Skye who managed to find Coulson’s location, she had proved herself to be incredibly resourceful, especially after Hand had kicked her off the plane. At the time Jemma hadn’t been able to understand why May had allowed Skye to be removed from the Bus but once Skye called in with a solid lead, she realised the game May had been playing with Hand.

The four of them set off to rescue Coulson, armed with their adapted dendrotoxin and delivery system. For the most part she and Fitz ended up being superfluous, Ward and May handled the soldiers, and it was Skye who found Coulson, having arrived a little before the rest of the team. But Jemma had been on hand to check Coulson over and patch him up.

The shared relief they all felt once back on the Bus, with Hand and all her agents gone, reminded her of how they had felt after Fitz and Ward had returned from their mission, or when she and Ward had returned from their unplanned swim in the sea. Life on the Bus was certainly far more dramatic than she had bargained for, and she wondered if perhaps Fitz hadn’t been ready for it, if that was the reason behind his dark words earlier that day. Was he losing himself because she had pushed him into something he had never wanted in the first place?

“What are you worrying about?” Fitz asked from across the lab. “We all got home safe.” Jemma tried not to wince at her lack of control over her emotions, she was just glad he hadn’t picked up on more than her anxiety.

“Nothing.” She started. “Just, do you ever think that being here… that it might be changing us? And what if it’s not for the better?” There was no point lying to Fitz, and she didn’t really want to anyway.

“Is this about what I said earlier?”

“No, well… in part, yes. But I mean, I still have nightmares about me falling and I know you do too.” They didn’t really talk about their nightmares, but if she was awake when he had one, she felt it and she was sure he felt hers too if he was awake when she had hers. “What if we don’t like who we become after all of this?”

“Hey, come on.” He said as he left his desk and approached her work bench. “That’s why we’ve got each other, to keep each other in check. You were right, I was so fixated on getting Coulson back, it was affecting me more than I realised.”

“I don’t want you to resent me for asking you to come here.” She said, wiping away the unwanted tears that were forming at her eyes.

He reached forward and cupped her cheek, wiping her tears for her. “I don’t resent you for anything. You feel that? No resentment.” She could feel that he was being honest, there was nothing in his head to suggest he held any bitterness against her, but she couldn’t help but worry it still might come in the future. “Jemma, you don’t have to worry about that.” He said aloud.

Skye entered the lab, and he quickly pulled his hand away from her face. Skye gave them a smug knowing smile and Jemma shot her a look back, sending her best ‘that wasn’t what you thought it was’ look. To which Skye just smirked, clearly thinking she knew better. “Don’t even start Skye.” Fitz told her firmly. He had not been thrilled when Jemma confessed to him that she had accidentally revealed their soulmate status to Skye, but he had since found that Skye knowing had its benefits, but her suggestive looks were not one of them.

Jemma hadn’t mentioned Skye’s theory that Fitz had feelings for her, or at least had in the past, though. It would have just made things awkward, she reasoned. And anyway, Skye made it clear to them both that she thought they were ridiculous for maintaining a platonic relationship, which was embarrassing enough for both of them, without Jemma mentioning Skye’s theory.

“I didn’t say anything.” Skye said with raised hands. “But if everything is so innocent then by all means ignore me and continue.” She said with a sly grin.

Now that she knew, Skye’s teasing could be pretty relentless when the three of them were alone, but it was also nice to have one person in their lives that they didn’t have to lie to, who they could just be themselves around and not have to constantly hide.

-x-

The following week they found themselves back at the academy and Skye was loving it, asking all sorts of questions about their time there and what it had been like for them in the beginning, having just discovered they were soulmates and hiding it from the world.

Things quickly turned more serious though, when a student was turned to ice during their lecture and most worrying of all, when it was revealed it had all been planned, to lure herself and Fitz back to the academy to fix Donnie and Seth’s weather machine.

And when Seth died, it was a sober reminder of how quickly things could go wrong with S.H.I.E.L.D.

Neither she nor Fitz were fairing too well after the stress of the day, they ended up seeking refuge in her bunk rather than spending the evening off with the rest of the team in the lounge. “I could have been Donnie, so easily, that could have been me.” Fitz mumbled frustratedly. They were sat on her bed, shoulder to shoulder, their thoughts protected from the other by her blazer and his cardigan.

“But it wasn’t.” Jemma said, not feeling particularly helpful. “Quinn preyed on them, saw a vulnerability and used it to his advantage. All we can do is learn from this, figure out how S.H.I.E.L.D. can better protect students from this. But at the end of the day, those two boys, they made a choice. And I don’t think you would have made that choice.” Fitz worried his jaw, unconvinced. “Fitz, you can’t dwell on what if’s, Donnie knew he was breaking S.H.I.E.L.D. rules, we can’t save everyone. And who knows, maybe being at the Sandbox will be good for him, maybe he can earn back S.H.I.E.L.D.’s trust. But we have to focus on what good we can do. And you and I both know the good we have done through S.H.I.E.L.D., the lives the Icers alone have saved, we’re making a real difference here.” Jemma contiuned, talking herself into believing what she said as she spoke. He smiled softly and nodded.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He said softly, although she could tell his troubles had not left him completely. “Are you okay, though? With Seth and everything, you know that wasn’t your fault, right?”

“I’m not a medical doctor, but I am all this team has... That could have been one of us.” Part of Jemma was mad, mad that the responsibly for everyone’s health had been put on her and it shouldn’t have been, she was a biochemist, not a medic. But at the same time, she had known she would be the closest thing to a doctor this team would have, and she felt she had neglected her duties, hadn’t prepared enough, if she had been better, maybe Seth wouldn’t have died.

“That won’t happen.” Fitz said with certainty.

“You can’t know that.” Afterall, they had only really just got Coulson back from his kidnapping.

“I do, May and Ward, they’re indestructible, Coulson has already danced with death and won, it won’t try again.” He said trying to bring some humour into their dark conversation. “And Skye, she’s fast on her way to being a field agent, Ward’s teaching her everything he knows. And you and me? We’ve got our tech to keep us safe and a team that’ll protect us. We’ll all be okay.” She knew he couldn’t know, of course he couldn’t guarantee the teams safety but the confidence and tenderness that he spoke with made her believe him. She rested her head on his shoulder, careful to avoid contact with his skin. It was perhaps the worst part of being soulmates, the hesitancy to have physical contact, especially for any length of time. It was usually just too much, made their brains feel full and loud, and it also felt rather invasive. So unless one of them really needed a hug or other form of physical comfort they were always careful to keep physical touch at a minimum and where possible avoid actual skin to skin contact.

“And we’ve got each other.” She said softly. A burst of affection radiated off of him and although she couldn’t see his face, she knew the exact kind of smile that had formed on his lips.

“That too.” He said gently. She wished she could make the moment stretch out and last, but she knew soon they would be ripped out of their quiet bubble and sent back into the chaos that was life on the Bus.

-x-

Their next mission had them once again on the tail of Ian Quinn. They were undercover on an Italian train, she and Coulson playing father and daughter and Fitz with Skye pretending to be traveling together for a holiday. They were all on comms which was a bit of an adjustment for herself and Fitz, having everyone in their heads and needing to make sure they used their comms to talk to each other and not their telepathic connection.

Jemma had spent the previous night filling a binder with her backstory and mission details, determined not to be the weak link in the mission. And to her credit, Jemma pulled off her part to perfection, dropping the ‘ashes’ and getting the targets to walk through it so that May could follow them through the roof of the train. Everything was going to plan and to top it off she got to see some beautiful Italian countryside.

Or it was, until comms stopped working. As soon as Coulson left her, in search of the targets, she reached out to Fitz. “Comms are down, are you okay?”

“A little busy.” He thought back to her. A moment later Ward came through, injured and bearing bad news, their cover had been blown. He instructed her to go and join Fitz and Skye and she took off running towards them.

“I’m headed your way. Fitz are you there?” She thought to Fitz as she made her way through the train.  Her left cheek and temple stung as she ran down the corridor and she didn’t have time to wonder if that meant Fitz was injured as she skidded into the luggage car to see Fitz on the floor and Skye holding a gun to a man holding a grenade. Instinct took over and Jemma grabbed hold of him to cushion the impact of the grenade, with Fitz screaming her name.

And then the man was gone and she was shooting not at her enemy but at the rest of the team. “Where are Fitz and Skye?” She asked Coulson in confusion.

“Fitz?”

“Oh Jemma, you’re okay. Are the team with you? Skye and I have found Quinn, we’re at his mansion.”

“What? Are you safe?” She asked as she tried to focus on both her conversation with Fitz and what Coulson and Ward were saying.

“We’re fine, we’re just watching but Skye wants to go in. Are you with the team?”

“Yes.” She answered.

“We set a tracker, use that and get here as soon as you can.”

She ‘discovered’ the tracker Fitz and Skye were using and was thankful the situation was pressing enough that no one had time to question her acting. They had just arrived when she felt the waves of panic wash off of Fitz and onto her along with an alarming number of gunshots.

“Where’s Skye?” Coulson asked Fitz.

“She eh- she didn’t want to let Quinn get away.” He panted in a panic. Jemma rubbed his shoulder, trying to calm his nerves, the team was back together, they would find Skye and everything would be fine.

Once the coast was clear Coulson ordered them to search the house, she and Fitz took off running upstairs, desperate to find their friend. The combination of Quinn’s haunting words ‘it’s dangerous to keep sending her in like that, all alone, when she means so much to you’ and the desperation in Coulson’s voice had set them both on edge.

“Simmons! Get down here!” Coulson shouted, genuine panic in his voice. Jemma turned on her heels and sprinted back down the stairs and to the basement where Coulson’s call had come from. Fitz was just in front of her, with Ward in front of him, blocking her view but even the wash of horror and shock that came off of Fitz couldn’t prepare her for what she saw once they were both out of her way. Coulson clinging to a lifeless Skye, who was pale and bleeding from her abdomen with blood coating her lips. “She’s been shot.” Coulson told her. Jemma breathed in and shut off her brain, compartmentalising her emotions and transforming into Doctor Simmons, the woman who would save her friend’s life.

“Keep her upright.” She instructed as she examined Skye. The panic started to set in again though, as she assessed the damage, Skye was moments away from death and she had no medical equipment. She scanned the room desperate for something, anything that would give Skye just a bit more time. The moment her eyes landed on the hyperbaric chamber she saw a small glimmer of hope and the orders flew from her thick and fast. With Skye’s temperature lowered by the hyperbaric chamber they waited for any sign of life, and after the longest 10 seconds of her life they all saw a puff of air leave Skye’s lips.

Once back on the Bus, Jemma did all she could to keep Skye stable, but she desperately needed emergency care that she was unable to provide on the Bus. Once she was confident she could leave Skye’s side without any deterioration, she updated the team on her condition and professional opinion and excused herself to clean up.

In the storage pod behind the lab, she frantically looked for anything she could use to clean her hands, unable to stay in the presence of her team any longer, even to wash her hands at the sink. As she wiped at her hands, she sensed Fitz coming, his grief adding to her own. He reached out for her shoulder, and she turned around, tears now falling after she had spent the last hour desperately holding them back. Silently he opened his arms to her and pulled her in for a hug and she let out the loud sob she had been supressing. His cheek brushed her ear and their minds fused, their combined grief and worry causing them both to breakdown into floods of tears.

Despite the enhanced grief she still found immense comfort in Fitz, knowing she wasn’t alone in her pain and, in his arms. she felt completely safe, for the first time all day. “Whatever happens, we all know you have done everything you can.” Fitz said, her guilt plain to him with or without their minds melding.

“What if it’s not enough?” She asked. It was impossible to ask him with her mind, both of their emotions too intense for any individual thought to get through.

“We’re not there. Let’s just focus on getting her to a medical facility.” He said, pulling away slightly and cupping her cheeks to thumb away her tears.

“I don’t think I can do this. It’s too much.”

“Let’s just get through today.” He said, unable to say anything else, as he was thinking much the same. So instead, he pulled her in for another tight hug. They were both suffocating under their guilt, Fitz for letting her go in alone and Jemma for not being able to help her more. They stayed in the storage pod holding each other and crying until Fitz finally pulled away and suggested they get out and she wash her hand properly in a sink.

An hour later they reached the medical facility and handed Skye’s care over to the medical team, leaving them with nothing to do but wait. To some extent Jemma felt relieved, Skye’s fate no longer rested solely in her hands, but rather the medical professionals. She was finally getting the treatment that she needed. But Jemma couldn’t help but wonder if it was all too little too late. Skye’s situation was beyond dire, and doctors were not miracle workers.

Fitz for his part, had remained silent since they had left the storage pod. He seemed to be shutting down, his thoughts inaccessible to her. She was worried about him, and a little confused seeing as he had been so willing to share his thoughts with her in the storage pod, he hadn’t flinched away when they accidentally touched when he hugged her and had deliberately touched her cheek, both instances allowing her full access to his mind. But now he was deliberately guarding his thoughts, putting a great deal of effort into concealing them and stopping any accidentally leakage. “This isn’t you’re fault, you know?” She told him, hoping he would answer her.

To her surprise he did, but aloud rather than though thought. “Why didn’t I stop her? I could’ve.”

“As if you could stop Skye doing anything she set her mind to.” Jemma told him firmly, wanting him to be released from his guilt.

“I shouldn’t have let her go in after Quinn by herself.” He murmured, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe he had done it. “What was I thinking?”

“It’s not your fault.” Ward cut in. “She shouldn’t have been there.” He said, his words seeped in anger. Although quite who that anger was directed at she wasn’t sure. “I’m her SO, it’s on me.”

“The one to blame is the man who shot her. Ian Quinn.” May said, ending the blame game they were all playing. “He’s responsible.” The conversation was brought to an end by Coulson angrily slamming his phone down, clearly, he hadn’t got the answers he wanted.

The tension in the room only grew the longer they waited, and all conversation ceased, until finally a doctor came out to speak to them. The news was what she had feared, the damage too extensive to be repaired, all they could do was prolong the inevitable. Fitz remained impermeable; his emotions blocked from her. How he had the energy to do so was beyond her, her emotions were rolling out of her like a tidal wave, and she couldn’t have stopped them if she wanted to.

Incredibly, Coulson hadn’t given up hope, Skye was loaded into the plane, and they set off to Bethesda in search of the doctors who had saved him. Coulson joined her and Fitz down in the lab and walked them through all that he knew of his own recovery, which turned out to be even more incredible than they had been led to believe. He gave them access to his classified medical file and asked them to find out everything they could about his death and recovery. It was all unbelievable, if she hadn’t seen Coulson living and breathing in front of her, she would have thought it the stuff of fiction. But then she could communicate telepathically with Fitz, and they were chasing a clairvoyant, so who was she to judge what was possible.

Their research brought them to a confusing dead end. Every location and doctor listed seemed to be fabricated, none of it existed. Not only that, but the procedures and drugs detailed in the file were so experimental she couldn’t even understand everything in it. And then there was the ethical question of whether it was even the right thing to do, Coulson’s experience was harrowing and the thought of putting Skye through that made her feel sick. When she took her findings, or lack thereof to Coulson he insisted they dig deeper, that the locations must exist somewhere. He reassured her that he didn’t want to put Skye through all that he had been through, there would be no need to mess with her memories.  But even with Coulson’s assurances Jemma remained anxious, how could you make the right decision with so little information?

With the lead of a drug named GH-325 and a particular stroke of genius from Fitz they found their new destination, the Guest House. Coulson, Ward, Fitz and their latest addition agent Garrett, were to go inside, while May remained on board to pilot the Bus if a fast get away was required and Jemma along with Garrett’s specialist, agent Triplet, were to stay with Skye. But before they separated Jemma wanted to talk to Fitz, he was still shutting her out and very deliberately keeping his distance to avoid any accidental touches.

“Fitz are we okay?” She asked while he packed his bag with any supplies they might need in the Guest House.

“Yeah. Of course.” He mumbled whilst packing his tools. Either he was lying to her, or he didn’t even realise he was pulling away.

“I know you’re hurting Fitz, I want to be able to help you.”

“I have a job to do.” He said tightly, picking up his bag and heading off to the cargo hold. She couldn’t help but wonder if Fitz’s crush on Skye had developed into something more, and that was why he was being so distant. Perhaps he was shielding her from his whirlwind of emotions or simply didn’t want to share his deepening feelings for Skye with her. She hoped she was wrong; Skye had never shown any interest in Fitz as anything more than a friend and she didn’t want to see Fitz get his heart broken.

Once the team had left, all she could do was wait and make small talk with Agent Triplet. Fitz was updating her over comms on their progress as they made their way down into the facility, so far things were not going great, they had had to force their way in and were preparing for a fire fight. The comms had been quite for a while when she felt Fitz re-enter her head. “Comms are down. I’ll let you know if we have any serious problems but it’s best if we don’t communicate, we don’t want to give ourselves away.” As soon as the thought was over, he left her, not even leaving time for her to respond.

She didn’t have time to dwell on it however, as Skye went into cardiac arrest and needed her full attention. The longer they prolonged her suffering, kept reviving her, leaving her weaker and weaker, Jemma felt more and more conflicted. What if they did all this and they didn’t even find the drug? Or even worse, they did and it just brought Skye more suffering? All her ethics lessons from her time at university and the Academy told her they should have let Skye pass peacefully, that all this experimenting was too dangerous, too unknown. Would Skye want all this? But what if it did work? What if Skye was fully healed and had no memory of all her suffering? But would she even last long enough for them to find out?

Her concerns were interrupted by the sound of Fitz, back on comms. “Get off the ground immediately.” He called, although the distortion of the message worried her as to how far underground he still was. What was so urgent they had to get going now and would the team make it back in time? Skye started convulsing again and she begged Fitz to hurry up as she ran through chest compressions. “I’m nearly there.” He thought back to her.

Finally, he burst into the pod and despite the lack of any knowledge of GH-325, she injected the vile, a last-ditch attempt, as Skye faded away. Her vitals began to rise and just as Jemma grew hopeful, even feeling a wave of optimism rush off of Fitz, Skye began to seize again, and her vitals spiked. Everyone was shouting, begging her to do something to end their friends suffering, but Jemma stood there helpless, unable to do a thing. All she could do was whisper comforting words and stroke Skye’s hair, desperately praying for forgiveness for what she was putting her though.

Then the seizing stopped as quickly as it had started and miraculously her vitals began to even out. She was stabilising. The drug had worked. As everyone filtered out of the med pod, to leave Skye to recover in peace, Jemma stood by her side, stroking her hair gently. She didn’t know how long she had been there when Fitz came back into the room. “I think you should rest.” He told her.

Jemma shook her head. “No, she needs monitoring.”

“That’s what all the machines are for, you’re no good to her exhausted. And anyway, I think Coulson wants to sit with her for a bit.” She was about to protest again but the worry on Fitz’s face put an end to her argument.

“Fine.” She followed him out, taking the tablet with her so she would be able to access her vitals from her bunk. Fitz hovered awkwardly at her door, clearly wanting to say something. “What is it?” She asked.

“I’m sorry… for being distant. It’s just all been a bit much and my head was going crazy and I knew you didn’t need me adding to what you were going though.” He said quietly, not wanting their conversation to be overheard, but clearly still unwilling to connect their minds.

“It’s okay, I know you and Skye are close…” She said, trying to hide the flair of jealousy that had taken root in her.

“Yeah, well no. That’s not really it.” His face was a mask and Jemma felt a slight panic that he was going to tell her that he wasn’t just close with Skye but in love with her. That would explain his strangeness. “I didn’t think I could feel like this, over someone we’ve only know for a few months.” Jemma forced her worry and jealousy down, there was no way she could let Fitz think she was anything but supportive. “I mean, if it hurts this much when Skye is injured… What if that had been you? What if you get injured and there’s no one to help you, and it’s not like there’s any more miracle drug, it all went to Skye. I thought it was bad when you were sick with the virus, but this… I don’t even have words for it. All that blood, watching the life slowly fad out of her… You’re here to help everyone else, but there’s no one here to help you. What if I’m the only one who can help, and I am hardly qualified, sure I’ve assisted you and seen you work but I can’t do what you do. If something happened to you, and I was the reason you didn’t make it…” He stopped himself, tears forming in his eyes. But still there were no emotions coming out of him and into her, when had he got so good at controlling his emotional leakage? She put that thought to the side and gently put her hand on his upper arm. She took a deep breath as she considered how best to comfort her best friend.

“We’ve all learnt lessons from this, we’ll all be more careful, risk is part of the job, sure, but we’re not specialists or field agents, we’re scientists, we’ll be okay.” She told him, she had to believe it, they both did, if they wanted to continue to be here. “The work we’re doing, it’s worth the risk. But I promise you Fitz, I won’t be taking any unnecessary ones. We’ll be okay.” She was about to pull him in for a hug, but he stepped backwards, wiping his eyes quickly and nodding his head.

“Yeah, okay, yeah, I was just being silly. Umm well I actually have some work to do right now… So you get some rest and I’ll see you later.” And then he turned around and was gone. Leaving her wondering if she had said the wrong thing after all.

Chapter Text

Over the next few days things seemed to settle back into a new normal, with her and Fitz monitoring Skye and running every test possible from their lab to try and figure out what had happened to her. Fitz continued to be a little distant, but not as much as when Skye had been injured. They were working closely together and when they were with Skye things almost felt like normal, but when it was just the two of them, she could sense something was off, but what it was she wasn’t sure. She just hoped that his strangeness wouldn’t last much longer.

The rest of the team went back to work on trying to track down Mike Peterson who according to Skye was alive and being controlled by Centipede. However, their hunt for Mike and centipede was halted by an Asgardian, Lady Sif. She was tracking another Asgardian, Lorelei, who could control men after touching them. Two mind-controlled agents and a black eye later, Lorelai was successfully captured, and both Asgardians had returned home to Asgard.

Working against Fitz had hurt every fibre of her being, and she hoped it would be an experience they never had to repeat. Their connection hadn’t been completely severed by Lorelei, it wasn’t like when he had been on his mission with Ward. She could still feel his presence. But something was very wrong. If she tried to reach out to him it felt like her thoughts just phased right through him. Normally if he was blocking her it felt like her thoughts just bounced right off him, but this had been different. He wasn’t choosing not to hear her, he simply couldn’t. Lorelei had interrupted their connection, and she hated her for it.

She hated her for stealing his freedom and his desires. For turning him into her willing servant against his will. Fitz’s personality had been left intact but pleasing Lorelei had become his sole motivation. He had been a warped version of himself, he looked and talked like Fitz, his mannerisms were all Fitz, but his actions, they had all been Lorelei’s doing. She just hoped that Lorelei’s violations wouldn’t have any long-lasting effects, she wasn’t sure how much more Fitz could take. Or how much more guilt about his experience in the field she could take.

“Are you okay?” Jemma asked as they returned to the lab after being gently kicked out of Skye’s med pod by Coulson. Fitz had yet to say anything about his experience under Lorelei’s control and she wanted him to know he could talk to her, if he wanted to.

“Err… yeah… no, I mean… it wasn’t great, being controlled by her, if that’s what you’re asking. My eye’s sore too…” He said while rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well, if you wanted to talk about it… just know that I’m here.” Jemma said softly.

“Thanks.” Fitz said, busying himself at his desk. “Did you, eh, could you hear me?” He said quietly after checking no one was around. Jemma shook her head. “I couldn’t feel you either, it was like I had forgotten how to connect to you, it was... I don’t know… I’m just glad it’s over. I didn’t like feeling separate from you.” Jemma wanted to say that that was how it felt a lot of the time for her now, she could rarely feel his emotions these days and he only ever thought to her when it was absolutely necessary. She just didn’t know why. But she kept her mouth shut. They were individuals, and soulmates or not, she wasn’t intitled to the inside of his brain. She just missed it. “And the worst part was I didn’t care, because all I wanted to do was please her.” He sounded frustrated with himself.

“Well… at least it’s over now. And none of it was your fault, so you mustn’t blame yourself.”

“Yeah.” He said with a doubtful raise of his eyebrows. “I’m trying.” He said after catching her gaze, before getting back to work.

-x-

They continued to focus their energies, albeit discreetly, on Skye’s blood samples and figuring out the secrets held within the GH-325 drug, while the rest of the team and some of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s most senior agents set to work tracking down Mike Peterson AKA Deathlok. Their progress was interrupted however when S.H.I.E.L.D. requested she stay at the Hub to offer them her expertise. It did however give her an opportunity to run further tests on Skye’s blood with the Hubs more comprehensive lab equipment. Fitz cleverly suggested he set up an encrypted hardline so that they could communicate privately if they needed to, even once they were out of range to do so telepathically. Things were unfortunately complicated by the addition of Trip, who had also been asked to help brief the Hub on Deathlok, but she was hopefully she could keep out of his way and gather her data in secret.

Once at the Hub she briefed the team there on Deathlok in as much detail as she could before excusing herself to a quiet lab to run some tests on Skye’s blood samples. She just hoped she wouldn’t be interrupted by the agents at the Hub with further questions about Deathlok and Mike Peterson. She had just started running an analysis when Fitz called using his encrypted hardline. Their conversation was limited by a bad connection and then fully interrupted when a rush of agents headed towards the situation room. The line went dead but Jemma had other things to worry about.

What was causing such a flurry of activity? Whatever it was, it was serious, level 8 and above she learnt after asking a few agents. But if it was level 8 then there was nothing she could do about it, she tried to put it out of her mind and got back to her work after a failed attempt at reconnecting with Fitz, clearly his sat cabling skills were not as good as he had thought.

She was just starting to make good progress when Trip entered the lab, asking too many questions and acting rather odd. Although to be fair, she was acting odd too, given the secretive nature of her assignment. Trip’s motives seemed to be good though and she decided to fill him in on her research and desire to contact agent Weaver for help in her analysis, he had witnessed Skye’s miraculous healing after all. And to her relief he seemed to be on board, even allowing her to have access to the Holobox to reach Weaver.

Which was how she found out that Hydra were somehow back and had the academy under siege. The final words of agent Weaver were ‘don’t trust anyone’, had Hydra been undercover within their ranks? Her mind was buzzing and she wanted nothing more than to know that Fitz was alright. But she wasn’t with Fitz, she was with Trip, who she didn’t really know. And she had just been told not to trust anyone.

 They managed to reach an understanding, trust was too strong of a word, but enough of an understanding that they were able to work together. But Jemma knew she wouldn’t feel safe until she saw Fitz again. She knew there was no chance of Fitz being Hydra, you couldn’t keep that kind of thing from your soulmate.

Or could you? He had been awfully cagey as of late. Could that be the reason why he was so reluctant to share his mind with hers lately? She mentally shook her head, that was nonsense, impossible. There was no world in which Fitz was Hydra. She was just being paranoid.

Her attempts to use Trip’s Holobox again were in vain, there was a signal overriding everything, making it impossible to transmit any messages. But what the signal was or who it was to, she couldn’t determine. Not that it mattered, as moments later agents, though who they were loyal to was unclear, burst into the room. Victoria Hand followed them, looking menacing, making Jemma grow even more anxious. She informed them of Hydra’s infiltration, how they had got to the highest level, and that they were taking over, this was their coming out party, as she put it. Loyal S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were being put down, but Hydra would give them the opportunity to join them. With guns aimed at them and tears in her eyes she was ready to stand up for what was right, even if that meant dying.

“Jemma we’re here, but we’re under attack!” Fitz called out to her as she braced for the consequences of her loyalty.

There was a flurry of movement and suddenly Trip had the Hydra agent in a head lock, knife at his neck. “Cross us off, and one of you goes too.” He threatened.

“I think I’m about to be executed...” She sent to Fitz once she could think straight.

“Right answer.” Hand answered.

“What?” Fitz panicked.

“The number of people I trust is now seven.” Hand said. Jemma stood confused, looking to Trip for answers. Slowly Trip released the agent and Hand continued talking with her agents, swiftly moving on to strategizing.

“That was a… a test?” Jemma asked confused. “Or maybe not...” She sent back to him. This was all happening too fast.

“That very few have passed.”

“I thought we were dead.” Jemma murmured. “You’re not Hydra. Thank God.” She let Fitz know that it was a false alarm and that he needn’t worry. To which he sent back that their situation was most definitely not a false alarm and the Bus was indeed being shot to pieces.

The roller coaster of emotions was too much to bear, she felt like her brain was shutting down, unable to comprehend all that was happening. That Fitz was so close but in so much danger, that Hydra surrounded them and that there only seemed to be 7 loyal S.H.I.E.L.D agents, along with whoever was on the Bus, left. Hand might not have killed them, but she wasn’t sure how long they could possibly last when so outnumbered.

“Don’t celebrate just yet. We may not be Hydra. But your friend Coulson? He is.” Hand said and left the room.

She must have been mistaken, there was no way. Coulson was a good man. Sure, he was secretive, but who wasn’t, they were a spy agency after all? And he had good reason to worry about GH-325 getting out into the wrong hands. But Hand was a good agent, she wouldn’t have come to that conclusion lightly… And Weaver had said not to trust anyone…

“Hand says Coulson is Hydra.” She told him, unsure what to make of the sudden turn in events.

“No. it’s Hand, she’s the Clairvoyant. Get out of there Jemma!”

“But she just tested out loyalty, pretended to be Hydra and said she would kill any loyal S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. This doesn’t make sense.”

“Where are you Jemma?” Fitz asked, his panic reaching into her mind.

“They’re taking us to the situation room I think, I’m with Trip.” She tried to reassure him, but she had no idea what was going on or who she could truly trust.

“We’re headed to the security room.”

“You can’t let on that you know where I am.” Jemma reminded him, it was even more important now that they not be discovered, the thought of Hydra knowing their secret sent an icy tendril of terror down her spine.

“I know. We’ll be with you as soon as we can.”

To further protect themselves they ended their communication and Jemma listened closely to Hand. Could this be a convoluted plan to get S.H.I.E.L.D. agents to turn on themselves and make Hydra’s job even easier? When Hand ordered the agents to use lethal force if needed, she couldn’t help but jump to her team and Coulson’s defence. Even when faced with Hand’s evidence she couldn’t believe it. Coulson was a good man, she had spent nearly a year working and living side by side with him. There was no way. But the more Hand spoke, the more evidence she piled on, the more the fear grew inside her.

Hand’s team accessed the microphones they had placed in as many rooms as possible and were now listening in to Coulson and the team in the security room, while a strike team went to secure them. Fitz for his part was doing an excellent job of pretending he had no idea where she was, and their plan to rescue her drew all the eyes in the room to her.

Hand gave her a hard stare and Jemma did her best to stare back, trying to communicate that this surely exonerated Coulson, he was there to rescue her and not attack anyone. Garrett’s enthusiasm for violence and Coulson’s hesitance, his desire to be sure Hand was the clairvoyant before they did anything drastic caused a murmur of confusion to echo round the room. Garrett kept talking, trying to convince them that a bullet to the head was the only solution. Everyone strained to hear as Coulson lowered his voice as he realised that it was Garrett, not Coulson or Hand, that was the so-called clairvoyant.

The room was abuzz, but Hand shushed them, waiting for more information before acting.  The strike team burst in and Garrett spoke, saying they knew what to do and guns fired. A chorus of ‘hail Hydra’ filled the room.

“Fitz?” Jemma called out, her heart beating rapidly, needing to hear him, to know he hadn’t been on the receiving end of the guns.

“I’m okay Jemma. The strike team, some of them were Hydra, they killed the others.” His anxiety filled her and her heartrate sped up further.

“Hand is sending a team, just hang on!”

“Jemma, there’s no guarantee…” His doubt rolled off of him, he was worried that Hand’s team would be massacred just like the loyal S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that had been in the strike team.

“Don’t you dare Fitz.” She thought to him firmly. Hydra may have taken the academy and countless other bases, but they did not have the Hub, they would not let them.

The next five minutes were the longest of her life. She bristled at Garretts threat to Fitz, telling him that, whether he came willingly or not, his talents would be required by Hydra. Bravely Fitz stood his ground. When the order was given to shoot them all, Fitz in the kneecaps and May and Coulson fatally, Jemma prayed, to no one in particular, that Hand’s team would pick up the pace and get there in time, they were so close.

Suddenly an explosion went off, killing the lights. “Fitz?”

“It’s Ward and Skye!” He thought back before a second larger explosion went off. Fitz’s thoughts became a scramble of worry and panic. “You have to hurry!”

“What’s happening?”

“Coulson and May are fighting them all.”

“Are you safe?”

“Yes.” His anxiety peaked and she could feel him focus his breathing and concentrate as he aimed a shot, killing a Hydra agent before they could kill May. “I- I just shot someone.” He thought to her, a mixture of relief and disgust pouring out of him.

“We’re so close, just hold on!” Jemma, along with Hand’s team could see the doors to the security room. She heard a boom from the other side of the doors and the team opened the doors, revealing Coulson and May on the floor along with Garrett and other Hydra agents, whether the agents were dead or simply incapacitated she couldn’t say, and nor did she care. She could see Fitz, he slowly rose to his feet with his arms up and she ran forward, launching into him and pulling him into a hug. She broke the hug quickly though, needing to inspect him for wounds.

“I’m fine Jemma.” He whispered.

“You don’t know that, adrenalin can block pain signals to the brain.” She whispered back as she ran her hands over his chest and back. Once satisfied that he was in fact uninjured she pulled him in for another hug. Their minds melding as their cheeks touched.  Both of them were pumped full of adrenaline and neither of them could quite get their heads around the fact that they were together once again, they had survived. S.H.I.E.L.D., the organisation they had devoted their entire adult lives to had crumbled to a Hydra coup, but they were alive and in each other’s arms.

Chapter Text

Her reunion with Fitz brought a wonderful, but fleeting, sense of security to Jemma. For the briefest of moments, she believed everything would be okay and that they would find a pathway back to normality. But time did not stop for them, the universe did not gift them a quiet moment to process what had happened, instead it ripped them from each others arms and they were flung back into the turmoil of reality.

Garrett was arrested and taken to the Fridge, accompanied by Ward, who wanted to make sure that he arrived there and had no chance of escape. Skye was tasked with repairing the firmware on the plane while she, Fitz, Trip and May set to work getting the Bus sky worthy. But most troubling of all, although Jemma suspected something deep within her had broken to cause her to find it more worrying than the rest of the chaos around her, was Fitz’s growing irritability.

She wanted to talk to him, get him to talk about what was going on, no one was handling the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. well, but Fitz seemed to be struggling particularly badly. But there was no time to talk, everything was urgent, and frustratingly Fitz wasn’t letting her in his head. Not even to ask him if he was okay.

He was so hot and cold at the moment, she couldn’t figure it out, one moment they had been hugging, relieved to be reunited, their minds mixing together freely and the next he was shutting her out, focused solely on the job at hand. Leaving Jemma feeling isolated and confused. She had her own doubts that she wanted to discuss with him too, what were they even fighting for now that S.H.I.E.L.D. was gone? But he didn’t want to engage with her, which left her with only herself to argue back and forth with about what the point of all their hard work even was. Which just left her going round in circles.

At least she had Trip though, she had had to convince Coulson to let him stay on board, but she was thankful he had, if Fitz didn’t want to talk to her at least Trip would.

Things only got worse when they heard Coulson had ordered Skye to wipe their online footprints from existence. She couldn’t help but worry about her parents and Fitz’s mum. They probably thought they were dead, and they couldn’t reach out to them to tell them otherwise.  But there was no time to dwell on her family or Fitz’s, the moment the Bus was ready, Coulson had them on the move to coordinates in Canada.

He believed the coordinates glowing in his S.H.I.E.L.D. badge were a message from Fury. Coulson’s conviction that this was a message was once again causing tensions to rise, Trip in particular doubted the trustworthiness of the message and despite Fitz’s confidence in Coulson, she couldn’t help but consider Trip’s point of view. The conflict had only brought out more of Fitz’s irritation, most of which was aimed at Trip, although for what reason, she could not fathom. Given the recent Hydra betrayal it was only healthy to have some doubts, but Trip had already more than proven his loyalty.

Despite Fitz’s mental withdrawal, he did at least walk beside her and talk with her on their trek from the Bus to the coordinate’s location. He had his tablet out and was finding a worrying lack of, well, anything. “Did you mean what you said earlier? About Coulson?” She asked, wanting to know if he really was as certain as he had made out or if it had just been for show, an excuse to disagree with Trip.

“I don’t know, Jemma.” He answered, honestly lining his words. “I wanna believe Coulson knows what he’s doing, but…” He shrugged.

“Well, at least we still have each other.” She said with a positivity she didn’t quite believe.

“Yeah. Good. ‘Cause the last thing I want is for things to change.” He responded, more upbeat than before. But if that was true then why was he withdrawing from her? And anyway, how could things not change, given the state of the world they now lived in.

“Fitz.” She said softly. He had always struggled with change, maybe that was the answer to the mental barrier he had put up. Maybe it was just his way of coping with the situation. But then it had started before the Hydra revelation, it had just got a lot worse since then… “It’s too late for that.” She said, before heading off to catch up with the group, unable to spend another moment going around and around in circles, trying to figure out what was going on with Fitz.

Amazingly, there was a hidden base in the middle of the Canadian wilderness. And with it came some security and warmth. And an in-depth interrogation. Eric Koenig introduced the team to his lie detector, he said it would measure ninety-six different variables, all of which would work together to determine if a person was lying. Jemma shot a quick look to Fitz, who seemed rather impressed with the machine.  Jemma swallowed hard and nudged him in the side to get his attention. He raised his eyebrows at her in confusion before letting her thoughts into his mind.

“Fitz, we’re in big trouble.”

“You don’t think he’ll ask about that?” Fitz asked.

“It’s on the yearly declaration, soulmates conspiring against S.H.I.E.L.D. are one of the biggest threats to its security, of course he’ll ask.” Jemma said, trying to not get irritated with him, it wasn’t his fault any more than it was hers that they were at risk.

“Then we need to be convincing.”

“What if that doesn’t work?”

“I don’t know… S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn’t really exist now, it’s just us, maybe now is the time to come clean?” Fitz’s suggestion made sense, but she still couldn’t help but worry, trust between the team was thin at best right now and revealing that they had been lying all along? Well it might not go down well.

“Only if we have to…”

May and Skye went through ‘orientation’, as Koenig called it, first but Ward, having returned to them beaten and bruised, insisted he go last, wanting to give his pain medication more time to kick in so that the pain he was in didn’t affect his results. Jemma gave Fitz a tight nod before volunteering to go next. If she could get through it without revealing their secret, then she could let Fitz know it was possible.

The first few questions were easy enough, full name, eye colour, marital status, immediate family and place of birth.

“Are you nervous agent Simmons?” Koenig asked.

“Just stressful being interrogated, you know?” She answered as innocently as she could. He fixed her with a hard stare, before asking her more questions, some ridiculous, like the difference between an egg and a rock, some more confusing, like had she heard of certain projects or had contact with different people.

“Have you found your soulmate?” Koenig asked, and Jemma could feel the blood drain from her face. The machine started beeping before she had even opened her mouth. He asked the question again but Jemma knew she was busted, lying would only make it worse.

“I’m sorry Fitz.” She thought to him before answering. “Yes.” Koenig stared at her before typing something into his tablet.

“What’s happening?” Fitz asked her from the other side of the wall.

“Who is it?” Koenig asked firmly.

Jemma shook her head, the movement almost so small Koenig might have missed it if she hadn’t been hooked up to so many monitors and cameras. She couldn’t sell Fitz out. Not when she didn’t know what was going to happen. The machine kept beeping and flashing red, causing her panic to rise, which in turn made the beeping and flashing worse. It was a vicious cycle.

“Jemma?” Fitz asked again, but she was too scared to respond.

Coulson burst into the room through a door she hadn’t seen before and joined Koenig at the monitoring station. “What’s going on?”

“She says she knows who her soulmate is. But won’t say who.” Koenig told Coulson, his voice cold.

“Jemma?”

“I’m sorry.” She said looking down.

“How long have you known?” He asked. But she couldn’t answer, that too would give Fitz away. Fitz who was continuing to send panicked messages to her mind, wanting to know what was happening. Fitz who was already anxious enough and didn’t need this added to his plate. But it was inevitable, he would go through the machine too and be caught, just as she had. “Jemma you need to start talking.”

“Is it someone in Hydra?” Koenig asked.

“No.” She answered firmly. The machine stopped flashing and beeping momentarily, providing evidence of her sincerity.

“I need to speak to Agent Simmons alone.” Coulson ordered. Koenig stood his ground, insisting the base was under his protection, he needed to vet everyone. But once Coulson pulled rank, he finally gave in. Leaving Jemma alone with Coulson.  He turned off the machine. “Is it Fitz?” He asked, perceptive as ever. Jemma closed her eyes, trying to hold back the tears and nodded her head slowly.

“I’m sorry, we didn’t want to be taken into a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility and experimented on for the rest of our lives, so we didn’t say anything at the academy, we didn’t know we’d have to sign the declarations once we graduated, and by then we didn’t want to reveal we had been lying for two years and again we didn’t want to risk be turned into lab rats.” She rambled off.

“Who knows?” He said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“No one. Well Skye, but she figured it out. No one else.” She told him nervously.

He turned to the door she had entered through and called Fitz in, who was desperately trying not to look as anxious as he felt.

“I’m sorry.” Jemma said to both of them.

“He knows?” Fitz asked her silently.

“Yes.”

“You cannot tell anybody about this, if Hydra found out… I don’t want to think about what they would do. Soulmates finding each other is rare enough, but scientist of your calibre, with your whole lives ahead of you… They would use it against you.” Coulson told them. “I will have to tell Koenig, he would find out during Fitz’s orientation anyway, but it does not go any further than that. No one can know.” It dawned on her then, that if they had been honest with S.H.I.E.L.D. from the beginning, Hydra would have known, their secrecy had no doubt saved them from being Hydra’s number one scientific targets. “Don’t tell us how it works, what it’s like, nothing. Whatever Skye knows is already too much. Hydra cannot find this out.”

Coulson called Koenig back in and Jemma and Coulson left for Fitz to go through his orientation. Coulson left her to find Skye, no doubt to reinforce the importance of keeping the secret, and Jemma was left alone in a corridor, waiting for Fitz to finish.

When Fitz joined her in the corridor, she rushed towards him. “How was it?”

“Fine.” He shrugged.

“I think we need t-?” Jemma started, but Coulson rounded the corner and called them into the common room for a briefing.  He briefed them on Marcus Daniels, a super powered individual who could absorb all types of energy. She, Coulson, Trip and Fitz set off, splitting into pairs, herself with Trip, and Fitz with Coulson. It was a nice change, working with Trip, he was so easy going and his smile could light up an entire room, it was a break from the strangeness between her and Fitz.

After the mission, when they were on their way back to the Providence base Jemma sat up front with Trip while he flew and they chatted easily.

“Have I done something to upset Fitz? He doesn’t seem to like me much.” Trip asked, during a lull in conversation, in his usual easy going way.

“He’s just like that sometimes, he doesn’t like change. And a lot’s been changing lately…” Jemma answered but she wasn’t sure she believed it.

“Hmmm. Well so long as you and Coulson know that I’m committed, loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D. and this team th-”

“Of course, you have more than proven yourself.” She cut in, he didn’t deserve to think that anyone doubted him. They continued to chat for a while but his words kept playing in her head. Something was definitely going on with Fitz and she wanted to know what. She excused herself from the cockpit and found Fitz, talking with Coulson. Coulson quickly left, leaving her and Fitz alone.

“We need to talk.”

“We do?” How could he be so oblivious? There were so many things they needed to talk about, things were not at all alright. But for now, she just wanted to clear the air about Trip.

“Agent Triplett thinks he’s done something to upset you. Fitz, if you’re questioning his loyalty in any way, I can assure you-”

“It’s not him.” Fitz said, gently shaking his head.

“What is it then?” She hated not knowing, not being able to feel what he was feeling and thinking, they had never felt more distant.

Fitz opened his mouth, but nothing came out for a few moments, she could see the gears turning in his head, and wished he would let her in. “You know how I can be. I hate change.”

“Is that really it? Because you’ve been treating him badly, you can’t take it all out on him, it’s not fair.” She didn't think he was lying, but she suspected that there was something else at play as well. His behaviour was too strange for it just to be about the change to the team with the introduction of Trip.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“He’s really very lovely, if you would just give him a chance.” She continued. Fitz’s jaw tightened, revealing that whatever his issues were with Trip, one conversation wasn’t going to fix it completely. She sighed and sat down opposite him, and they spent the rest of the flight in an awkward silence.

When they arrived back at the base they were met with an empty hanger, instead of the Bus where they had left it. They made a bee line for the security feed system in the lounge where Koenig spent most of his time, hoping he or the security system would provide some answers. The room was empty. Coulson ordered Trip to search the building, he came back with the not unexpected news that no one was on the base.

Their last hope for answers lay in the security footage, Fitz quickly got to work looking for any footage of their team. What they found was rather confusing. All internal feeds had been erased but the hangers landing assist feed was still intact, revealing footage of May walking out of the Bus with a bag in hand, and shortly after she was logged as leaving out the front door. Later on, Skye and Ward were filmed getting on the Bus hand in hand, with the Bus taking off a few minutes later.

They had so many questions and no answers. Tensions were once again escalating, the stress of mysteriously losing half their team was getting to them all, and Jemma didn’t want to stick around for another fight.

“I’ll make us some food. We have to eat.” She said as she got off the sofa and left the room. A moment later Fitz was jogging up behind her and calling her name. Asking her why she thought they had left. She had no real answers though, just the aim to stay positive, and to avoid further fighting. They decided they would make pancakes to help keep spirits up and she went off to the stock room to look for ingredients.

Once in the stock room she found some pancake mix and headed out of the room. But when she went to flick the light switch, a red smear along the wall next to the door frame, caught her eye. She followed the smear up, where it became thicker and redder, it looked worryingly like a trail of blood. As she followed the trail up to the ceiling rafters, she came face to face with the lifeless stare of Agent Koenig. A horrified scream escaped her lips.

“Jemma?” Fitz called out to her.

“He’s dead.”

“What? Who?”

“Koenig…”

She couldn’t take her eyes off of him, his dead eyes boring into her, his face contorted in panic and pain. Coulson and Trip came running into the room, followed shortly after by a sprinting Fitz. They heaved Koenig’s body down and Fitz revealed that in one of the artificial windows someone had left a message, ‘Ward is Hydra’. The conclusion was obvious, but they still wanted to do an autopsy, to be sure. As she set to work in the kitchen it was becoming clearer and clearer, Ward had killed Koenig.

Fitz was muttering behind her, his disbelief evident. Trip calmly suggested he take a breath which Fitz responded to with anger. Anger at Trip for telling him what to do, anger that everyone was drawing the same conclusion about Ward and probably anger at himself for having been tricked by Ward like the rest of them.

“Simmons will find something. Go on, tell them, Jemma.” He finished, growing more distressed.

“Let me work, Fitz.”

“Yeah, but tell them that Ward is a-”

“Let me work.” She said firmer than before.

“Something else is at play here, sir. Think about it. They’re just trying to mess with our heads. They wrote that on the wall to scare us.” Fitz continued. Jemma couldn’t help it, she didn’t mean for it to reach him, but a wash of pity left her brain and entered his. He shot her a hurt look and his jaw tightened. He didn’t want her pity, he wanted her to believe him, wanted Ward to be innocent. But that wasn’t something he could control.

When she was finished, she told them her report, it was undeniable, all evidence led to Ward being the killer. She felt the explosion of anger from Fitz before she heard the crash of Fitz throwing whatever items he could get his hands on. “Fitz!” Jemma said, rushing to try to steady him. In the end though it was Coulson who managed to calm him down a little, while she rubbed his shoulder, unsure what else she could offer him.

Coulson quickly set them back to work, emphasising the importance of them getting to Skye before Ward realised she was playing him. Fitz sulked off to start work on fixing communications and tracking the Bus and Jemma rushed to follow him.

“Fitz!” She called after him as he stormed off, still seething with anger, bubbling out of him and into her. “Fitz, wait up!” He slowed his pace but didn’t respond. “Fitz, are you okay?”

“I need to fix communications.” He said, matter of fact.

“I know… but if you want to talk… then I’m here. I can help with fixing communications too.” They worked in silence, and she could feel Fitz building his mental wall back up, disentangling their emotions from one another. The more he withdrew, the less control she had over her own tears and soon she had to stop for her eyes were full and she couldn’t see clearly. When she sniffed and wiped away her tears Fitz looked up from his work.

“Did you want to talk about it?” He asked softly.

“I’m just so worried about Skye, we have no way of reaching her and Ward… he had us fooled, all this time. We don’t know what he’s capable of. He murdered agent Koenig in cold blood.” She sobbed, frantically wiping at her eyes.

“We don’t know that… there has to be something, a reasonable explanation for all this.” Fitz insisted, still stuck in denial.

“Fitz…” She said wearily.

“I don’t want to hear it, we don’t have all the facts. Ward is our friend.” He persisted.

“No, Ward is Hydra, he manipulated us.” She told him firmly.

“No.” He said, his voice breaking. “Ward is my friend. I would know if I was being manipulated.” He wiped away a tear and shook his head. “Ward is my friend, we had each other’s backs in Ossetia. He jumped out of the Bus to save you, have you forgotten that?”

“Of course not. But don’t you see, he did that to gain our trust?” Jemma pushed. Fitz shook his head and turned around to get back to work. It was all too much, the world was falling apart around them and she felt like she was losing her best friend. She turned to get back to her own work, occasionally having to pause to wipe her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Fitz murmured after a few minutes silence. “I didn’t mean to make you feel worse. I’m worried about Skye too.” He was waving a white flag, maybe they couldn’t talk about Ward, but they could talk about Skye. But how far could that go without hitting dangerous waters?

“We just need to get the system up and running as soon as possible, then we can get to her.” She answered, Fitz couldn’t provide her with any comfort from the terrifying scenarios playing in her head so talking to him would just be further distraction from saving Skye. Out of the corner of her eye he looked a little hurt that she was closing the conversation down, but she didn’t have room to care, it was his inability to accept reality that was making an impossible situation even worse.

Shortly after fixing the communications systems the proximity alarms went off, signalling they were under attack, proving once again, that yes, things could always get worse.

It was the US army and Maria Hill, who was turning them in as part of her cooperation deal. Jemma, Fitz and Trip were left with General Talbot and his team while Coulson spoke to Maria Hill, hopefully he was having more luck in convincing her to let them go than they were with Talbot.

After it was clear no headway was being made, Talbot and two of his men disappeared to find Coulson and Hill, what followed was the sound of a fight, followed by Icer shots which prompted the rest of the soldiers to leave the kitchen and find what had caused the ruckus. When the sound of further fighting followed, Trip told them to gather all essential equipment before he followed the noise to join the fight. 

Ten minutes later they were all aboard the Jump Jet and headed to the location of the Bus. Once they got to the airfield, Hill kept Ward distracted as Coulson made his way on board and they then made their way to the motel rendezvous point. The motel was a little dingy, but it would do, it had a pool and a vending machine, which had generated the kind of enthusiasm that was only possible after the week they had had. There was nothing to do but wait for Coulson and Skye, so she offered to go and get everyone some new clothes, Fitz joined her while Trip went to get the necessary toiletries and some food for everyone.

There was still an awkwardness between them, but things felt closer to normal, with no pressing deadline, they could just enjoy taking their time and choosing outfits for everyone. For Coulson they just chose more white shirts, a handful of ties and suit trousers and an extra jacket, but for themselves, Trip and Skye they could have a bit more fun. Fitz enjoyed looking at the range of shirts and ties and Jemma helped him coordinate, it felt like they were back at Sci-Ops again and having a trip out to the mall. Except for the fact that they had to keep an eye on CCTV and make sure they weren’t picked up.

Shopping bags in tow they treated themselves to some tea at a quaint little café that would have looked more at home on the British high street than in Los Angeles. With a tea pot of Earl Grey to share and a handful of chocolate digestives they could almost pretend they were on a trip back home. “Do you think our parents are okay?” Fitz asked quietly.

“I… don’t know…” Jemma said after finishing her mouthful of biscuit.

“Do you think they think we’re dead?” He asked a deep frown appearing on his forehead.

“Fitz-”

“It’s just I don’t know how Mum’ll cope with that, at least your parents have each other, but I’m all she’s got. And now here we are enjoying some tea and what if they’re sat at home thinking we’re dead?”

“When Skye’s back we can ask if she can get word out to them.” Jemma said, but she was certain Coulson would have something to say about it.

“But what if that puts them in danger? What if they’re already in danger?” Fitz worried, the crease in his forehead growing deeper. “It’s just not fair on them, we signed up for danger, although this we could never have predicted. But your parents, my mum, they didn’t sign up for this, they don’t deserve this.” Jemma had no words of comfort for him but at least she could offer him her hand. But as she reached her hand forward, he pulled his hand away from the table where it had been resting and picked up his tea with both hands. Jemma reigned in her hurt from his rejection and did her best to not let it show on her face, concentrating instead on her biscuit and tea.

She couldn’t understand what had changed, never before had it been an issue for one of them to offer the other a small comforting touch and subsequently briefly share their minds when one needed comfort. It wasn’t a common occurrence, but over the years they had grown to be able to sense when it was appropriate.

Fitz had never rejected her comfort like that before, she couldn’t see the problem, they were talking openly, anything on their minds had already been shared, so what difference did it make? She was becoming more and more certain that he was hiding something from her, and with all the betrayals of late she was getting rather paranoid about what it could be.

Of course, she could just ask him, but there was no guarantee he would tell her and what if things got even more strained between them? At least they could still enjoy some normal moments, like they had when shopping or, ignoring Fitz’s rejection of her hand, this conversation about their parents. She could live with him not letting her touch him, with not sharing thoughts telepathically, but she couldn’t live with him pulling away more than he already had.

“As soon as we can, we’ll reach out to them and let them know what’s going on.” Jemma said, hoping that that was enough to calm both of their anxious thoughts. He was right, their parents didn’t deserve the stress of S.H.I.E.L.D. being labelled a terrorist organisation and their children’s identities being scrubbed from the internet and not getting in contact, but there was little they could do about it. She just hoped their parents would hold onto the ‘no news is good news’ mantra. And that they would support each other while they waited to hear from their children.

Chapter Text

Things were as confusing as ever with Fitz. After his rejection of her hand at the café, he had clung to her side as if nothing had happened at all. They spent the evening with their feet dipped in the motel pool, finally able to process everything that had happened to them. Fitz had finally come to accept that Ward was indeed Hydra after hearing it from Skye herself once she and Coulson had returned. But he still hadn’t fully accepted that Ward was truly evil.

With his foot making gentle ripples in the pool, he asked her why she thought Ward had done it, coming up with excuses for him, wondering if he had been brainwashed or something. When she couldn’t provide any better explanations than Ward’s inherent evil, he fixed his eyes ahead of him and bluntly asked her to tell him she wasn’t Hydra. Of course, it was a ridiculous question, but she could understand why he wanted to hear her say it. And his returning promise that he wasn’t Hydra was what she needed to fully dismiss the niggling worry that that was what he was hiding from her. Although what else he could be hiding from her, she didn’t know.

But hearing his reassurance to her of how important she was to him was a huge relief, they were homeless and on the run, and something was going on with Fitz but at least he still wanted her around, still wanted to have her in his life.

That night May returned, and it started to dawn on Jemma that this might be as normal as things were going to get. Ward and the Bus were gone, replaced by Trip and a motel.

Despite their lack of resources, they continued on, determined to stop Hydra. Their investigation took them to Cybertek, and Fitz continued to confuse her with his behaviour. One moment he would be on the opposite side of the room, while they conducted research with Skye, the next he would be sat next to her on the bed, while Coulson and May briefed them, showing no understanding of the concept of personal space.

And then he would spend an hour by the pool talking to Skye about who knows what, declining her offer to join her shopping when May and Coulson needed new clothes for going under cover at Cybertek. Only for him to be sitting as close as possible to her in the back of the van when they ran comms for May and Coulson whilst they were at Cybertek.

It was confusing and exhausting. She was spending so much of her mental energy on stopping Fitz from sensing any of her worry or confusion that it was distracting her from their work. She needed to talk to someone about it, it was eating her up inside. While the team poured over the documents they had retrieved from Cybertek, she seized her opportunity when Skye went to the room they were sharing to retrieve her laptop.

“Skye? Could I talk to you for just a minute?” She asked as she followed Skye into the room.

“Sure, what is it?” Skye asked.

Jemma paused for a moment, unsure how to start. Skye gave her a questioning look, asking her to get on with it. “It’s Fitz.” She started. Skye raised her eyebrows, asking her to continue. “I just… He’s… I think he’s hiding something from me.”

“Why?”

“He won’t let me touch him or send him thoughts.” She said quietly, not wanting to be overheard. “He’s blocking me out and he’s never done it before.”

“Coulson said we shouldn’t talk about any of this.” Skye said with a frown. But after Jemma’s pleading look, she sighed and asked. “For how long?”

“I don’t know, a while, but it’s got worse… since Hyrda…”

“You’re not telling me you think Fitz is Hydra?” Skye said, full of disbelief.

“No. He can’t be… But I don’t know what else he could be hiding. We’ve always shared so much… At first I thought he was just processing in his own way, but he’s not just not sharing his thoughts, he’s actively not letting me touch him, we were talking yesterday and I went to touch his hand, just to comfort him, you know? We were talking about our families, he was being open with me, so I can’t understand why he wouldn’t let me touch him.”

“Maybe he just doesn’t want another person in his head? I can’t say I’d like that.”

“He never had a problem with it before.”

“Maybe it’s an age thing, you're both growing up? Or just that as you two are spending time with other people now and you don’t need each other as much?” Skye said gently. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” She thought she’d schooled her face rather well.

“Like I just told you I killed your puppy or something. It doesn’t mean you aren’t important to each other, just means you aren’t as co-dependent, that’s alright isn’t it?” It didn’t sound so bad when she put it like that, but Skye didn’t know what it was like to share such intimacy with someone and then have them withdraw it. Fitz had become an extension of herself, they were intrinsically linked and Fitz, for whatever reason, had decided he didn’t want to be a part of that anymore.

“Then why doesn’t he just talk to me?” She asked, it was easier than trying to explain what it felt like to have Fitz withdraw from her.

“I don’t know, who knows what’s going on in his head right now, what with how he’s taking Ward.”

“That’s the point though, I used to always know.”

“I don’t know Jemma, and I’m sorry but we kinda have bigger things to worry about right now. Why don’t you just ask him?” Skye gave her a sympathetic smile and headed back out the door. The biggest issue with asking outright was she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer. She didn’t want to know if he thought he had outgrown her and didn’t need or want her anymore. Or at least not in the way they had been for the last ten years.

The opportunity to talk to Fitz alone soon presented itself when they were sent to scout out possible locations for where Garrett and Ward were hiding the Bus. The car journey would have been the best time to discuss things. But then if things went badly, they’d still have to continue with the mission afterwards, and she didn’t want Fitz to feel like she had trapped him in a car to have a difficult conversation. It could wait, she decided, once the mission was over and Hydra had been taken care of, she could wait until then.

They found the Bus at the third airfield on their list, Coulson had ordered them to sit tight and wait for the team to arrive, but they figured sending a D.W.A.R.F. on board wouldn’t put them in any danger and it would stop them from going right back to square one if the Bus left before the team arrived.

Fitz had just turned around to get a D.W.A.R.F. from the car when she heard him in her head. She didn’t have time to celebrate the reconnection however as his message turned her blood cold.

“Ward.” He told her, she spun around to come face to face with Ward, aiming a gun at her head. Fitz stood in front of her, frozen to the spot, terror radiating out of him now that he had brought down the barrier between them.

Ward marched them on board the plane at gun point, both of them doing their best to not let their fear show on their face. “We’ll be okay. We’ll figure something out.” Fitz thought to her, but she knew he didn’t really believe it himself. Their only hope was that Ward had some shred of humanity to him, that their time on the Bus together had meant something to him, that he wouldn’t let Garrett kill them. Fitz held out more hope for that than she did.

Fitz had a surprising amount of courage when he told Garrett that they wanted their plane back, and she couldn’t help but feel proud of at how far he had come since first coming into the field. “I have Trip’s EMP. Get ready to run.” He told her, giving her a short-lived burst of hope as Ward pulled Fitz’s hand out of his pocket, revealing the EMP disguised as a joy buzzer. “You know me, always kidding around.” Fitz said and pressed the button, setting off the EMP. “Looks like the jokes on you!” Fitz said aggressively to Garrett. The EMP seemed to have damaged Garrett, turning off whatever technological device was keeping him alive, but it hadn’t provided them with a chance to run, they were both firmly seized by Hydra agents while the plane took off. “I’m glad that I did it. You hear me? You lose, we win.” Fitz asserted while Ward hunted around for something that could help Garrett.

“You’re going to get us killed!” She thought to him.

“You’re dead.” Garret snarled.

“Well, no worse than you.” Fitz bit back, where his courage was coming from, she wasn’t sure. “And you don’t have to take orders from him anymore, Ward. Ward! Let him die. He deserves to die.” And there it was, his continued hope in Ward. He thought Ward would see sense, that he would spare them. But the look on Ward’s face told a different story.

“Get them out of here.” He ordered and they were shoved forward by the Hydra agents and taken downstairs.

“Coulson will find us won’t he?” She asked, hopeful at the fact that they hadn’t been killed yet. Hopefully Hydra saw them as valuable enough to not kill them.

“Coulson won’t rest until every Hydra agent is either dead or behind bars.” Fitz said aloud, grabbing a stool from their lab and throwing it backwards at the Hydra agents. “Run!” He shouted to her mentally, although it was unnecessary as she was already moving.

They took off running, securing themselves in the corridors behind the lab. “Oh!” Jemma cried out as Ward appeared, coming down the ladder from the floor above. Turning back on themselves, they had but one option. “The med pod!” She told him and they scrambled in, locking themselves behind the door.

Ward banged on the door, demanding that they open up but Fitz continued to hope he had some good in him, pleading with him, insisting that they were friends and that he could choose to be good. But Ward just stared at them, telling them to open the door before turning his back to them and typing into the control panel.

He was going to launch them out of the plane!

They both cried out, calling for Ward to stop. “I know that you care about us, Ward! Ward please stop! Stop!” Fitz begged. Panic erupted out of them and swirled together, feeding off of each other and growing.

And then the tracks below them started to move, noisily pushing the pod backwards and out of the plane. They continued to call out to him, begging him to stop but it was too late. The pod moved slowly at first as it moved along the tracks and then sped up as it fell. The pod tipped, causing them to fall backward and Jemma heard a crash and then there was nothing.

She woke with a thumping headache. As she got her bearings, she realised the pod was on its side and the floor, or rather wall, was a mess of scattered medical supplies. Fitz was sat up with a sling on his left arm and although it was hard to tell in the low light, it looked like he had blood on his face.

“You looked very peaceful sleeping. Didn’t want to wake you, but I’m glad that you’re up.” He said gently and she wondered how long she had been unconscious for, how long he had been alone?

“What’s happening?” She croaked. Her brain was fuzzy and she felt sick, concussion no doubt. He caught her up on what she had missed, they had sunk to the bottom of the ocean, at least 90 feet down according to his calculations which were no doubt correct. He had saved them by strapping them to a backboard before they had hit the ocean floor.

He had broken his arm in two places and she had a mild concussion but they were both alive. Which was a miracle.

But Fitz’s lack of enthusiasm was beginning to worry her. His assessment of the situation was bleak. They had no way out, no way to contact anyone and even if they did by some miracle get out of the pod before the oxygen ran out, they would be stuck in the middle of the ocean with decompression sickness and no rescue.

“We’re going to die down here…” She said slowly, the excitement of their survival draining out of her, they had survived one death simply to be met with another. It was a strange sort of terror, knowing death awaited them, but not knowing when it would get them, would they run out of oxygen and slowly fade away or would the pod loose its integrity and fill with water, drowning them?

They were going to die. But she’d be damned if she didn’t find out why he had been distancing himself from her.

“Fitz?”

“Yeah?”

“If we’re going to die down here, together, can you be honest with me?” He looked anxious, more anxious than he had already been. But he nodded his head with a tight jaw. “Why have you been pulling away from me? Have I done something?”

He frowned in confusion. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes you do. Like the other day at the café, I went to touch your hand and you flinched away.”

“Oh…” He looked down at his lap and said nothing more.

“Come on Fitz, it’s just you and me and the fish on the other side of the glass. Why can’t you be hon-” She paused, looking back at the glass. Her brain kicked into gear, she had found a way out. “The glass. Fitz the glass.” Their conversation would have to wait. They needed to get moving before the oxygen level got too low.

“Yeah, it’s bulletproof, pressure resistant…” He murmured not following her trail of thought, clearly still distracted by her question.

“But the seal is four-Hydroxy-four-methyl-two-pentanone.”

“Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, but -”

“But medical ethanol has a low flash point and it burns hotter.” She cut in, needing to get him to understand her plan as soon as possible. Finally on the same page they got to work, Jemma had no time to wonder about his answer to her question, they had limited time and needed to work as fast as possible.

Once their work was complete Fitz talked her through the plan but there was something off about him, he was the wrong kind of emotional, not excited and relieved, but almost bittersweet. “This is near empty.” He said holding up an oxygen canister. “But I’ve rigged it to let out a burst of very high pressure. It should force a breath into your lungs, but you have to hold on to it, okay? Hold on tight.” But what about him? Worry spewed out of her and she could see the second he felt her wave of emotion hit him, but he powered on. “Should be enough to get you up the 90 feet or so.”

“One breath? But there’s two of us.”

“Yeah, I’ve done the maths. That’s why you’re taking it. You’re a better swimmer anyway.”

“No.” She said both aloud and directly into his head.

“Jemma-”

“No, I’m not leaving you here. That’s ridiculous. We need a new plan.” She argued back, her voice wobbling and going a higher pitch than she would like.

“We’re not discussing it, okay? You’re taking it. End of Story. I couldn’t live if you didn’t.” He had once again closed the door to their telepathic communication, and she couldn’t help but get angry with him. How dare he put her in this situation, how dare he sacrifice himself for her and not even let her in, let her know what was going on in his head.

“Well, I feel the same way. There has to be another way.”

“You’re taking it.” He said with a calmness that only made her anger greater.

“Why would you make me do this? You’re my best friend in the world!”

“Yeah, and you’re more than that, Jemma.” He breathed in a shaky breath, Jemma just stared at him, completely dumbstruck. “And I couldn’t find the courage to tell you. And I know you don’t feel the same way, and that’s… that’s fine. That’s why I was pulling away, I didn’t want you to hear my thoughts, find out by accident, I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. Your friendship has always been more than enough, more than I deserve. I’m sorry. Please, just let me do this for you, let me show you what I didn’t have the courage to say.” His words were so tender, it hurt all the more.

It was too much. Everything made sense now, her memories rewritten by his disclosure. But how could she just accept his plan when he had just told her his feelings. All while she didn’t even have the chance to deal with it, how could she process this revelation when he was trying to die for her? With no words to say she pulled him into a tight hug. Her ear touched his cheek and their minds melded, he could feel her devastation, unwillingness to lose him and how shocked she was by his words. And she could feel him, his love for her and his peace, knowing he was giving her the best chance of survival. There was anxiety mixed in too, worry for what she would do once she reached the surface, fear of what drowning would feel like and how long he would suffer, but mostly he had a disturbing calmness too him.

“It’s okay.” He said as she cried into his shoulder. How could he be okay with this? She was living her worst nightmare.

“No. No. No.” She sobbed, breaking away from their hug to cover his face with kisses. She was feeling everything and nothing, her brain was stuck, he loved her and he was dying for her. That thought just kept repeating itself over and over. She could hear him, taking comfort in her kisses, but believing the lack of meeting his lips with hers was confirmation of his belief she didn’t feel the same way. It wasn’t that though, she was just… completely blindsided. How could her brain process anything when he was about to die for her? How could he do this and be so calm?

His soft kiss to her forehead brought on a fresh wave of tears, how could he resign himself to this? “Jemma, Jemma, we have to hurry.” He said gently, trying to pull away from her hug.

“No.” She sobbed. “You said, after the virus, you asked me not to give up like that again, and now that’s exactly what you’re doing.” He had made her promise, he knew what this felt like and he was doing it to her anyway.

“Just take it Jemma.”

“No, don’t leave me.”

“Jemma you have to take it, it’s the only chance you have.” He wriggled out of her hug and pushed the oxygen canister into her hands. “Take it with you.” He pulled back further and smiled at her sadly, before slamming his hand on the detonator button.

She let out one last scream, not ready to lose him, before the water came rushing in, knocking her off her feet and squeezing the air out of her lungs. She saw Fitz crash against the wall from the force of the water sending a burst of pain through both of them before his face relaxed into unconsciousness from the blow to his head and their link faded, relieving Jemma of the shared pain. She took the breath from the canister and dropped it, then felt around for Fitz in the pod that was now completely filled with water. Once she had a grasp on his shirt, she pulled them both out of the pod.

Her lungs started to scream for air after the first few seconds of swimming, but she kept going, fighting her bodies instinct to drop Fitz to be able to swim faster. Her lungs burned and her muscles ached but still she kept forcing her way through the water. The dead weight of Fitz was slowing her down significantly and by the time she could clearly see the surface, she wasn’t sure if she was going to make it. And what would she even do once they had? Fitz would need emergency care and it wasn’t like she could do CPR in the middle of the ocean. Every instinct in her body was screaming for her to open her mouth and gasp for air, but she kept kicking her feet and pulling herself through the water.

Finally, she broke to the surface, gasping for air as waves battered around her. All her strength was gone and her head was dizzy from lack of oxygen, but her job wasn’t done, she heaved Fitz above the water and desperately kicked her legs to tread water.

Above the surface of the water hovered a helicopter, it looked so out of place she worried she was imagining it, nonetheless she reached out her hand, praying the ghost before her was real. Her hand clasped hold of his, either she had completely lost her mind in her final moments or Nick Fury was here and saving their lives. The helicopter got as low to the surface of the water as it could, but it was impossible to pull her out of the water while she clung to Fitz. Fury shouted to her above the roar of the helicopter, instructing  her to let go of Fitz so that they could be pulled up separately but she couldn’t will her hand to let go of his shirt.

She was freezing cold, exhausted and unable to let go of the one person she knew she couldn’t live without. The waves kept battering at them and she was pushed under the water once again, she was thoroughly spent, but she couldn’t give up with help so close. She tried desperately to pull herself and Fitz back up to the surface but continued to be battered back down by the waves, each failed effort exhausting her even more than the last.

It was only when she felt Fitz being pulled up to the surface that she finally let go. Her job complete, he had a chance, she had given him that much. As her energy left her and she felt herself sink further below the waves, a hand reached out for her and yanked her back above the water and into the helicopter.

She lay on the floor, shaking and gasping for breath. She was completely shattered, both physically and emotionally, all she could do was roll over and look for what had happened to Fitz. He lay on the floor a few feet ahead of her, positioned on his back with two people crouching down either side of him.

They lifted his chin and checked for signs of breathing before they clamped his nose and delivered rescue breaths, before going into chest compressions. All she could do was watch helplessly while they tried to resuscitate him. She reached forward a shaky hand and brushed her finger against his, but instantly recoiling at the absence of his presence in her mind.

He was gone, she hadn’t been fast enough, and he was gone. She had failed him. She wasn’t sure when she had started crying or if she had even stopped in the first place, could you cry underwater? But now she was in full on hysterics. Nick Fury passed her an oxygen mask and told her to lie still. She didn’t have the energy to fight and just curled up on her side, tears rolling down and around her oxygen mask. The person, presumably some sort of medic, kept at the chest compressions and rescue breaths. Fitz continued to lie motionless on the floor, his only movement the result of the force of the chest compressions. Still nothing happened and Jemma knew a part of her was dying alongside him. There was a void inside of her that only he could fill.

At some point the helicopter landed. Someone new came aboard and cut Fitz’s shirt to reveal his bare chest, which was still not moving. A towel was placed over his chest and the person rubbed him dry before applying AED pads to him. They shocked his heart and his body spasmed, still lifeless. They began CPR again while the portable AED machine recharged. Once again, they all stood back, shouting ‘clear’ and set off another electric pulse to Fitz’s heart.

This time it worked, a pulse was detected, and the medical team sprang back into action, whisking him away. A medic came up to her and started talking, but Jemma couldn’t hear anything above the roar of the decelerating helicopter blades and shouts of Fitz’s medical team. And even so, she was desperately listening out for Fitz, mentally banging on the door to his brain, begging for him to respond to her. The medic pulled her up, having given up on communication and she found herself rushed aboard a plane and helped into a hyperbaric chamber.

Her panic only grew now that she couldn’t see Fitz and the last image of him in her mind was his pale skin and blue lips. The more panicked she got the more claustrophobic she felt in the chamber, it didn’t take long for someone to sedate her and for the world to become a black void.

Chapter Text

She woke up with a start, her mind clouded and confused. Fury was there, telling her what had happened and most importantly that Fitz was alive, but also that she was not allowed to see him yet.

The medical team were still working on Fitz when she was finally allowed out of the hyperbaric chamber and led into the base Fury had flown them to, the Playground he called it. Her body ached from the swim and her thoughts jumbled around one another, unable to order themselves. But there was one thing she knew for certain, and that was that she needed to see Fitz.

Despite her insistence that she could help them, the medical team refused to let her anywhere near Fitz. On some level she could understand their arguments, she could barely stand or order her words to form coherent sentences. Her mind and body were beyond exhausted. But no matter how rational their argument seemed, the moment she saw Fitz’s lifeless body again in her mind’s eye she couldn’t stop herself from fighting back, insisting that she had to see him, that she could be of assistance. And when that didn’t work, she simply begged.

The more distressed she grew the more sympathy she saw in the nurse’s eyes. But she would not budge, and as Jemma sunk to the floor in exhaustion, the nurse turned away, locking the door behind her that separated Jemma from the medical room.

Jemma hugged her knees and cried, her body trembled, and she couldn’t help but remember the last time she had felt this powerless. Briefly her mind took her back to the night so many years before when Paxton had kissed and touched her against her will. But this time there was no Fitz on his way to hug her and hold her, to comfort her and help her cope with the aftermath. This time it was Fitz in need of her help, but no one would let her.

“Ahem.” Jemma flinched at the sound of a man clearing his throat. She turned around to see the face of a man she had been autopsying just days before. A small yelp escaped her lips before the man introduced himself as Billy Koenig, Eric Koenig’s identical twin. With some persuasion and the promise that she would be notified the second she could see Fitz, she allowed him to lead her to her to a new bunk, where he said she could shower and leave her personal effects, of which she currently had none. Billy gave her a wash bag and change of clothes and left her, telling her to find him in the common room when she was finished.

Her mind seemed to have given out on her, unable to process what was happening. Slowly she made her way to the shower, and without thought or feeling she turned it on and stepped into the heat of the water, Koenig had said the shower would help, that the warm water would relax her exhausted muscles and wash the smell and feel of the salt water off of her, but instead the feel of the water just reminded her of the ocean water rushing into the pod.

She ended up curled in on herself, naked on the floor of the shower, crying and trembling as the water ran over her. And there she remained until the water ran cold, the shock of it giving her enough energy to heave herself up and out of the shower. She turned the water off and wrapped herself in a towel, waiting for the water to heat back up so that she could wash her now matted and soaking wet hair.

She wasn’t sure how long she waited, time seemed to have lost all meaning, but when she ran her hand under the shower, she found the water warm again. Cautiously she ran her hair under that shower, careful to avoid the rest of her body from getting wet and triggering another upset. But as she gently rubbed shampoo into her hair she began to sob again, it felt like such an inappropriate activity to be doing when Fitz was somewhere in the building fighting for his life. 

Once she had composed herself and was dried and dressed, she found Billy and he ran her through a quick debrief. Although what the contents of the debrief had been was anyone’s guess, she simply nodded along when it seemed appropriate. Once finished he suggested she get some rest in her bunk, but she was sure he knew as well as she did that that wasn’t an option. So, he took her to the hanger, telling her to wait for the rest of the team and that someone would call her if they had an update on Fitz or she was allowed to see him.

The Bus arrived before she saw anyone from the medical team, but finally she wasn’t alone, she had other people to share her pain with. But even that was short lived, there was a lot to do, so after a brief reunion everyone disappeared off to take care of their different duties. She quickly found herself alone again, with members of the team dropping by to visit, but only ever for a few minutes at a time.

She had been waiting for nine hours when they finally said she could see him. “You must understand, he was deprived of oxygen for a long time, there will be brain damage, we just have no way of knowing how extensive it is. Not until he wakes up.” The doctor told her as they walked to where they were keeping him.

“But he will wake up?” She asked hopefully.

“That we don’t know either I’m afraid.” The doctor answered and Jemma felt her heart shatter all over again. She needed to call his mum, she deserved to know what was happening. She should have been there too.

The doctor pushed open a door to reveal a hospital bed, covered in wires with machines blinking and beeping off to the side. On the bed, beneath all the wires and tubes lay Fitz. An involuntary gasp escaped her mouth and she rushed to his side; her hand shot out to touch him, but he looked so fragile she worried she might hurt him. “Don’t worry, you can touch him.” The doctor said soothingly. But still she hesitated, what if he wasn’t there when she touched him, what if she felt that awful hollow feeling in her brain again? “I’ll give you some privacy.” And then she was alone. With Fitz, who had a machine breathing for him and an arm in a cast along with other cuts and bruises from the impact of the initial fall. He had always looked young for his age but the pale figure in the bed better resembled the sixteen-year-old she had first met than the man she had been talking to just hours earlier.

Slowly she crept up to the edge of the bed, summoning all her courage, she reached out and touched his bare arm. It wasn’t a void of emptiness like before, but he wasn’t really present either. She couldn’t quite describe it, she knew he was there, but couldn’t hear him. She took in a shaky breath; it was better than the complete nothingness of before and she supposed the difference now was that he was actually alive.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, swallowing hard to stop herself crying again. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave me.” She bit her lip to stop herself from trembling and ran a hand through his hair. “Just wake up, please, just wake up.” She murmured into his hair as she leant in close to him. She had hoped, stupidly, that he might respond to the sound of her voice, not physically but that she might feel his brain respond or at least recognise her, but his brain remained inactive.

Gently she edged her way onto the bed, careful of all the wires and tubes and his injured arm. Squeezed on the bed she lay beside him, one arm above his head, running a hand threw his hair and the other wrapped around his middle, as tightly as she dare. She rested her head against his, peppering kisses against his forehead. It wasn’t comfortable but she needed to be as close to him as possible and this was the best way, given all the wires and tubes attached to him.

Skye came in some time later, to find her crying into his shoulder. “Hey.” Skye said quietly.

“I can’t hear him.” She sobbed, relieved that finally there was someone she could tell. “This is the first time I’ve ever touched him and he’s been silent. Even if he’s been asleep there’s been background noise, his brain whirring away like tv static or the sound of a dream, something. But there’s nothing. I can feel he’s here but that’s it.” Her voice was croaky and weak from all the crying, she wasn’t even sure if Skye had heard her.

“Let’s get you to bed.” She said gently. Jemma shook her head viciously. There was no way she was leaving Fitz, no way. “Trip’s bringing a cot in, you just need to get changed into some night clothes and brush your teeth, yeah?” Reluctantly she let Skye peel her off of Fitz and push her towards a bathroom and place a bag in her hands. The bag contained some of her belongings from the bus, her pyjamas, toothbrush and toothpaste and hairbrush, as well as a fresh outfit and deodorant for the next day.

Jemma went through the motions; getting changed, brushing her teeth and hair and then found her way back to Fitz’s room. Skye was sat at his bedside, holding his hand and talking quietly to him through her own gentle sobs. Her head shot up when she heard Jemma enter and she gently placed his hand back on the bed, wiping her eyes she got up.

True to her word, there was now a bed set up next to Fitz’s, pressed as close to his as the surrounding machines would allow. Skye wrapped Jemma up in a hug and promised to drop by first thing in the morning before leaving them alone again. Medical staff filtered in and out through the night, but it didn’t matter, she couldn’t sleep. By 4am she had given up all hope of sleep, and instead asked if a nurse could find her something to read to Fitz. He emerged with a well-read copy of The Hobbit which apparently belonged to Billy.

Whether he could hear her or not, reading quietly to him brought her some comfort and at some point, she must have drifted off, as the next thing she knew she was simultaneously falling and drowning. She shot up, wide awake and desperate for breath as her heart pounded in her ears. Skye was on the chair on the other side of Fitz’s bed and quickly looked up from her laptop.

“Jemma are you alright?” Skye asked, worry written across her face. Jemma nodded her head, but her tearful eyes betrayed her and Skye quickly rushed around Fitz’s bed to sit next to Jemma and held her in a tight embrace.

Over the next two days she settled into a dreary routine, she would spend her days reading to Fitz, both from the various novels she acquired and from different scientific articles and journals she thought he would find interesting. But his mind remained silent to her and the doctors could give her no further information on his recovery. Her nights were filled with sleepless tossing and turning, and when she did finally settle into sleep she would be haunted by nightmares.

On the morning of the fourth day of his coma she offered to shave him, rather than having a nurse do it. As her hand gently touched his cheek, she felt a quiet hum enter her brain, she swallowed down a hiss of surprise followed immediately after by an excited grin. She carefully turned her face away from the nurse busying herself in the room until she could school her excited features. He was waking up. She was sure of it.

His coma persisted, there was some sort of brain activity, but it was minimal. It was something though, it was improvement, and she had to hold onto that. She spent most of that day holding his hand, so that if there was any change she would know immediately, but nothing did and eventually she had to go to sleep.

The next day Skye dragged her to the closest shower room which happened to be the gym showers and promised to keep watch while she was gone. She hadn’t showered since her first shower at the base, and she was uncertain how her mind would react, but this time she was prepared, this time she would have control of herself she reasoned.

Jemma only got as far as covering her body in soap before the flashbacks took hold of her. She was back under the sea, pulling Fitz’s dead weight through the water. Reminded of how she had not been fast enough, or smart enough to come up with an alternative solution. Their last conversation played on loop along with the fear and pain of dragging Fitz behind her through the ocean. Once again, she ended up crying in the shower, hunched over herself in a ball, unable to move.

After what felt like an age, someone entered the room, shutting the shower off, and covering her in a towel. She was in too much of a state to be embarrassed by the situation, there was no room in her brain for anything other than fear and grief. She couldn’t stop shaking or crying, couldn’t focus on anything apart from the burning in her lungs and the weight of Fitz beneath her.

“Focus on your breathing. It will calm your body down.” It was May, she was crouched down in the shower with her, rubbing circles on her back through the towel. She breathed in time with May and eventually she regained control of her mind and body. May instructed her to get dressed and then to sit by the sink, where she then washed Jemma’s hair for her. May stayed silent aside from her gentle instructions and occasional comforting murmurs and Jemma was glad, somehow May seemed to know exactly what it was that she needed.

Once she was back in Fitz’s room, she immediately sort out his hand again. With a gasp she dropped it. He was back, not fully but she could feel his confusion, no words or sentences but she could feel his discomfort, his fear and his complete and utter bewilderment.

“Can you hear me Fitz?” She asked, thankful that there was only Skye in the room and she didn’t need to explain herself. Nothing changed though as she spoke to him, no sign that he could hear or understand her. So instead, she worked on what she could do for him and adjusted his position to make him more comfortable and requested more pain relief for him, until she could sense his discomfort fade.

The following day he responded to her voice. She could feel his anxiety lessen when she spoke, although he didn’t seem to understand what she was saying. But he could hear her, and her voice was providing him with relief. He didn’t respond to her thoughts, when she touched him or when she tried to send a thought directly to him, but he could hear her when she spoke. So, she spoke to him all day, until her voice was hoarse.

“Hey.” Skye said as she inched open the door. Jemma smiled at her but continued reading the engineering article she had found for him. “Are you alright? You sound awful.”

“He can hear me!” Jemma whispered.

“What?” Skye asked with an inquisitive smile.

“He’s coming back, I can feel his emotions, no clear thoughts just yet but I can feel what he’s feeling.” She said excitedly. “He’s just so confused and scared.” She continued, her tone more sombre, the thought of him not understanding what was happening to him was too much to bear. “But when I talk to him, he knows it’s me, I can feel him calming down.” Jemma said as quietly as her excitement would let her.

“That’s amazing.” Skye beamed. “But let me get you a herbal tea for your throat though, otherwise you won’t be able to talk to him anymore.”

After that, the team visited a lot more, she guessed Skye must have convinced them that Jemma knew he could hear them through some non-soulmate related means, as they would stay for half an hour or so, talking to him about their day. Only Coulson’s visits decreased, and she knew he was busy, now director of S.H.I.E.L.D. and all, but she still couldn’t help but be disappointed.

It wasn’t until the eighth day that something changed again. This time when she touched his hand she could hear him, really hear him. His thoughts were disjointed and often he would lose the thought midway through or repeat the same thought again and again. But more than anything he was confused, and didn’t seem to understand what she was saying, both when she spoke aloud or thought something to him. The sound of her voice still seemed to calm him down but not as much as before.

One word rattled around his head more than any other. “Jemma?” Again and again. In the end she had to stop touching him, it was too distressing, and she didn’t want him to hear her crying. Especially now that he seemed to be coming round.

At some point she fell asleep while reading Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets to him, and she woke with a start. “What happened? Help? What’s going on? Jemma? I want Mum. Help me? Why can’t I move?” His thoughts were projecting straight into her head, no contact required. They were slow and fuzzy but distinct thoughts nonetheless. At first, she thought he must have woken up, but he was still very much in a coma, unresponsive but projecting his consciousness into her, unfiltered.

“I’m right here Fitz. You had an accident, you’re in the hospital, but I’m here.” She said to him, and when that didn’t calm his mind she held his hand and thought it to him.

“Jemma? I want Mum. Where’s Jemma? What’s happening? Mum? Head hurts.” Whether he couldn’t hear her or understand her, she wasn’t sure, but his confusion only sent further waves of self-loathing through her, if only she had been better, been faster, then he wouldn’t have been suffering so much. She was once again filled with guilt that she hadn’t been allowed to contact his mum, Coulson had insisted that it was too dangerous.

“I’m right here, Fitz.” She said again, holding his hand and pressing her forehead against his. His consciousness continued to project itself into her, the same mix of panic and confusion.

The worst of it was when he suffered from flashbacks himself, and she could see the events through his eyes. The pain of his arm breaking, the fear he felt but refused to acknowledge as he tried to convince her to leave him, show her that he was okay with it. And then the sensation of his head crashing again the pod wall and the feeling of drowning, as the water pushed into the pod and forced the air out of his lungs, only to be replaced by water.

Jemma did her best to block it out, not only was it unbearable but it felt awfully invasive, he wasn’t choosing to share with her, it seemed to be an involuntary response to him slowly waking up. But the continual blocking of their connection brought on a thunderous headache and for the first time a small part of her wanted to run away, get some distance between them, so the onslaught would stop. But it was not a part she listened to, and when she could bare it, she held his hand and when she couldn’t she sat by him in the chair and did her best to stop his thoughts flowing into her mind.

As his mind slowly came back, other improvements were seen by his doctors, his eyes would open occasionally, he withdrew from pain and occasionally he would mumble something unintelligible. The occasions that his eyes fluttered open, or he mumbled something made her heartrate accelerate to a worrying speed, only to be disappointed when nothing further happened.

It was 4:42pm on the nineth day of his coma when he opened his eyes and they searched the room. “Fitz?” His eyes fell on her and he looked terrified. His confusion and panic were plain to see, even if it hadn’t been forcing its way into her brain, despite her attempts to block it. “Fitz, I’m right her, you had an accident. I just have to get the doctor. I’ll be right back.” She said as calmly as she could.

She rushed to the door and called for the doctor who promptly kicked her out of the room to assess Fitz, ignoring her objections. A tsunami of panic hit her, although what belonged to her and what belonged to Fitz was impossible to know. She had told him she would be right back, but now the doctor was conducting their tests on him and she was stuck outside leaving him all alone. “I’m just outside Fitz.” She thought to him.

“Jemma?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” The relief that he could hear her caused her to double over and weep.

“Help, Jemma, please?”

“I’m just outside, they won’t let me in just yet.”

“Help?” That was the last thought he sent to her intentionally, as his thoughts then became clouded and confused. And angry.

Helplessly she waited. She could hear the doctor talking to Fitz, explaining to him what had happened, but he couldn’t process what was being said to him, his thoughts grew more frustrated and more forceful in their relentless barrage against her brain. It took more effort than she could sustain to keep them from her brain and so she focused on calming her own mind and sending him calm thoughts, in an attempt to provide him some comfort.

When the doctor was done, they summoned her and spoke to her quietly by the door. “He has suffered from hypoxia, which damaged his brain. His comprehension, speech and coordination seem to have been affected. He can follow basic instructions, following movement with his eyes, and squeezing your hand, but more complicated instructions, for example wriggling his toes and following the movement of my finger with his eyes at the same time are currently too much for him. As for speech, whether it is his ability to form thoughts or simply express them that is troubling him we don’t know yet. His coordination has also been affected but how much of that is due to the coma and how much is due to the damage we simply don’t know yet.

"We need to let him wake up further, then we will try again with the tests and see if there is any improvement. He’s confused and irritable at the moment but hopefully once he fully wakes up and understands what’s happened, that will fade. But I warn you, there is a long road ahead of him, and the person he used to be may well be gone.” The prognosis did not seem good, but he was alive, at least he was alive.

Whether it was the relief that he was awake or the reality of his condition, or a combination of both, Jemma couldn’t hold back the tears any longer in front of the doctor and began to cry once again. “I’ll give you some time alone with him while I make contact with Coulson to update him.”

Once the doctor had disappeared down the corridor she took in a deep breath, wiped her eyes and pushed open the door. “Hi Fitz.” He opened his mouth and tried to greet her back, but no noise came out. The storm inside his head only grew as he tried again and again. “It’s okay, Fitz. It’s okay.” All this time she had been waiting for this moment, for him to be awake, but now she was faced with it she had no idea what to say to him. There were so many unknowns, did he realise his thoughts were going straight into her brain, did he remember what had happened, did he know what he had done for her, what he had said to her?

‘Yeah, and you’re more than that, Jemma. And I couldn’t find the courage to tell you. And I know you don’t feel the same way, and that’s… that’s fine.’

In all nine days she had barely thought about it, it hadn’t been important. What mattered was that he was alive and that he got better, that he would live. But now he was awake, and she didn’t know what to make of it all. She didn’t know what to think, or how she felt about it. But what was clear was that right now he needed his best friend, everything else could wait.

She sat down beside him and offered him a smile, but she could still feel the frustration emanating off of him as he continued to will his mouth to produce sound. “Sometimes these things take time, you’ve been in a coma nine days so it might take a while.” He looked at her a little confused and his brain exhausted itself trying to figure out what she had said.

“I’m broken.” He finally answered, thinking to her at least seemed to work and that eased some of his frustration.

“No. You’re just healing.” His brain slowly turned over what she had said and then firmly rejected it.

“Useless. Broken. No good.” Disparaging thought after disparaging thought echoed around his head and into hers.

“Stop that. You’re not useless. You’ve had an accident and it’s just going to take time to heal, and maybe that won’t look exactly like who you used to be, but you’ll get through this, find a new normal.” She rushed out and quickly realised she had spoken too fast for him to follow. “You are not useless.” She said firmly and slowly.

“You hear me?” It was then that Jemma realised he had not inteded for her to hear his previous thoughts.

Jemma couldn’t help the guilty look that formed on her face. “I’m sorry Fitz, I can hear everything, it’s like we’re touching even though we aren’t.” She said slowly and waited for him to process what she had said. “I’m trying not to, but it’s exhausting, and it causes a massive headache.”

“I know.” He thought bitterly. Which surprised her. He must have been referring to when he had shut her out before the accident. The months he had spent blocking her thoughts entering his head and desperately guarding his thoughts from her. His not so platonic thoughts about her. She swallowed, now was not the time to discuss any of that.

“I am trying to block it out Fitz.” He didn’t like it, his face and mind told her that. He didn’t want her hearing his confused thoughts or seeing how he had to turn each individual word over in his mind and then piece the sentence together. It was then that she saw a glimpse of the future, him unwilling to let her in his head once he regained control and them drifting apart because of it. She could not let that happen. Would not. She simply had to do better at blocking his thoughts out until he had control and make sure that he never felt judged, show him that she didn’t care that his mind was working differently now.

Fitz pinched his eyes closed and ran a shaky hand over his face and then over his stubble lined jaw. He didn’t like it, it was itchy and it didn’t belong there. “I can help you shave if you’d like?” She asked, but Fitz scowled, clearly not happy that she had heard his thoughts again. She hadn’t meant to, it was just exhausting and she was so so tired. The moment she let her concentration slip his thoughts would all come rushing through. “Sorry. I …” Her sentence disappeared when he caught sight of the bed at the side of the room that she had spent the last nine days sleeping in. He tried to open his mouth again to speak but all that came out was a groan.

“Yours?” He asked her after she let down her barrier blocking his thoughts. This was going to be impossible if he continued to communicate with her telepathically but wanted her to block out his involuntary sharing. She nodded her head, unsure what he would make of it. Before she had a chance to put the barrier back up, guard herself from the thoughts he wanted to be kept secret, she felt a small pulse of hope, hope that it was a sign she returned his feelings. She slammed the metaphorical door to her mind shut as fast as she could, but it wasn’t fast enough. “Does she love me back?”

“Umm, why don’t I go see if Skye’s around, I’m sure she’ll want to see you.” Jemma said and left the room as fast as she physically could. She felt sick, it was too much, having complete access to his brain, it felt wrong, intrusive and wrong. She didn’t go straight for Skye, instead she went to her bunk, she’d only seen it once before, when Billy showed it to her the first time, but she could remember where it was. Once inside she saw that someone had brought all her belongings from the Bus and placed them around the room. On her chest of draws there was a picture of herself and Fitz with her parents and his mum, they all looked so happy. Happy and innocent. The people in the photo had no idea what lay ahead of them.

Sinking to the floor, a gut-wrenching sob escaped her throat. She had done this, she had brought them out into the field. Everything that had happened since then was on her. His brain damage, the loss of his most powerful tool, the thing that mattered to him the most, it was her fault. Her fault for bringing him into the field. Her fault for choosing the med pod to escape Ward. Her fault for not realising his plan in time. Her fault for not thinking up an alternative. Her fault for not swimming faster. Her fault for not getting him into the helicopter faster. Her fault.

As the torrent of emotion ripped through her the barrier between herself and Fitz crumbled, his thoughts flooding back into her head. “Jemma? No. It’s not. It’s not your fault.” The thought was slow and quiet, hidden by her own emotions and thoughts swirling amongst his, but as he repeated it, louder and more clearly, she realised her mistake. He could hear her too. She had lost her concentration and forgotten to block her over whelming feeling of guilt from Fitz.

“I’m sorry Fitz.”

“Come back?” He asked slowly.

“I’m just getting Skye.” She thought back with as much composure as she could muster.

“Please?”

Wiping her eyes, she stood up, washed her face in the en suite sink and left in search of Skye. Ignoring Fitz’s calls for her to come back as she rebuilt the barricade between their minds. “He’s awake.” Jemma said softly once she found Skye sparring in the gym with May. “Thought you might want to see him?” Jemma asked. May said she would stop by later, not wanting to crowd him, and quickly left them alone.

“Is everything alright?” Skye asked gently. She shook her head and the tears she was holding back broke free once more. “Want to talk about it?”

“Not just now. Come on, he’s expecting you.” Jemma said, grabbing Skye’s hand and pulling her in the direction of Fitz.

“Jemma-”

“I said no, Skye.”

“How is he?” Skye asked, trying a different tact.

“You need to speak slowly, he can’t talk back but I can… ummm… yes I can tell you what he’s thinking in response. If he wants me to, that is.  He’s just slower and weak but… well you’ll see.”

As it turned out, Skye was much better with him than she was, she just chatted away, happy to repeat herself as many times as needed and patiently waited for Jemma to intercede for Fitz. In fact, even though she couldn’t intercede for anyone other than Skye in order to keep their link a secret, the rest of the team seemed to have better conversations with Fitz than she did.  It seemed that she alone was making him worse.

Chapter Text

The days that followed were full of doctors, physiotherapy and speech and language therapy for Fitz, and she stayed by his side for all of it. He had made it clear he wanted her there, which she couldn’t quite fathom as she only seemed to upset him, either she was blocking him out too much and didn’t hear thoughts he wanted her too or she wasn’t blocking out enough and heard thoughts he didn’t want her to. It was an impossible balancing act.

By the end of his first week post-coma, he was able to walk around for short periods of time unassisted which everyone insisted was great progress, but she alone knew exactly how frustrated Fitz was about it. Just walking to and from the bathroom would make him feel exhausted. Not only was his mind unwilling to bend to his will, but his body also.

One thing that he was pleased about was he could still write, although finding the words and spellings took time and his arm grew tired quickly. But it meant he had a way of communicating without Jemma delving into his brain. His speech was slowly coming back, but so far, he could only manage a simple greeting and basic answers to questions.

Jemma had moved into her bunk once he had woken up, he hadn’t asked her to, but it felt odd staying, she didn’t need to keep vigil, ready to spring into action the moment he woke up, so there was no need to stay. But getting used to sleeping on her own again was harder than she had expected. Every night she would toss and turn for hours, only to have her eventual sleep interrupted by nightmares.

Finally, the day came for Fitz to move out of the makeshift hospital wing and into his own bunk, the doctors were to be redeployed elsewhere, only required for weekly check-ups and the physio and speech and language therapist’s would each come in twice a week until he was ready to go down to once a week.

The news that he could leave the hospital bed and get settled in his own room had cheered him up considerably and Jemma was hopeful it was the start of better things to come. If he was in his own space, perhaps he would be happier and less irritable.

But Fitz continued to be rather miserable. He seemed to have reached a plateau in his recovery, he could talk but most words took him a long time to find and although he was nearly back to full strength, his coordination was still bad and his broken arm trembled when he was stressed, which seemed to be most of the time. However, he was starting to be able to stop the onslaught of thoughts into her brain. If he was calm and able to focus, then he could stop it. Even if it wasn't all that often.

But Jemma was proud of him, he was making excellent progress and worked hard during his therapies, but it just wasn’t enough for Fitz. He was used to things coming quickly to him, having his brain do what he wanted it to, and that just wasn’t the case anymore.

By the time he headed back to work in the lab he had mostly regained control of his thoughts once again, and her brain was, for the most part, left in peace from any unwanted sharing on his part. However she had argued with Coulson that Fitz wasn’t ready yet, this was a big step and timing was important, but Fitz was desperate for a purpose. And Coulson was keen to have his top engineer back and hoped that putting Fitz to work would help his recovery. The issue was that no one seemed to want to acknowledge that there was a chance this was it, this was all the improvement he would make and he would have to find ways of managing it and getting used to it, they all would.

“Jemma, stop … stop, stop… ahh.” Fitz clenched his jaw and massaged his trembling hand. “You know what I mean.” He mentally groaned. He had taken to thinking to her more than talking to her, it was easier to express himself, even if he couldn’t find the exact word, she could usually sense what he meant.

The issue was his speech and language therapist had told him he needed to speak as much as possible, if he couldn’t find the word he wanted, he needed to try to change his phrasing or describe the word. But when he thought things to her, he didn’t need to, she would understand him whether he found the word or not. In this case it was obvious what he wanted, for her to stop worrying. But his continued use of thinking rather than speaking just made her worry more. “I can do this.”

“It’s not that I think you can’t, I just don’t want you to expect things to be how they used to be.” She told him quietly as they walked to the lab. “And you need to speak, otherwise people will get suspicious.” He thought it was ridiculous that they still had to hide, after all Hydra had been routed out. Although the thoughts that reached her brain were a lot less concise in communicating the thought. “The more people know the more likely it is someone bad finds out. It’s to protect us, Fitz.” She said quietly. As much as was possible she spoke to him, to encourage him to do the same, if she thought things to him, they would end up relying on that and he might never make any more progress.

Once in the lab Fitz quickly grew frustrated, he didn’t know where anything was, and Jemma didn’t know where most of the tools he needed where either. This meant he needed to communicate with the other lab techs and scientists. He repeatedly asked her to ask for him, but she refused, she was busy, and he needed to be able to do things for himself. Everyone knew to be patient with him, they wouldn’t judge him for it, but still, he was self-conscious and wanted help.

“I need the… the… you know the… uh. It, it, it’s…” He rubbed his eyes in frustration and mentally pleaded for Jemma to intervene.

“You can do it.”

“It’s… it’s not red.” He groaned at himself. “H-h-hot… and wires.” After five or so minutes the lab tech realised he wanted his soldering iron, but then the wrong head was on it and they spent another minute trying to figure out what was wrong with it and then what head he wanted, and finally he needed the right width solder. There was calm for another five or ten minutes before Fitz hit the table in frustration. Jemma got up to check on him, she didn’t want him to think she was leaving him without any support. But he needed to regain his independence, figuring the balance out was proving rather difficult though. Once at his desk she saw the problem, he’d made an absolute mess of the soldering. She could see where he had tried to recover from his mistakes only to end up making it worse.

“Okay, not to worry, I’ll get the desoldering pump and you can start again.” But when she saw how badly his hand was trembling, she knew he needed a break, or at least to do something that didn’t require fine motor skills. “How about you look through some of the S.H.I.E.L.D. schematics Skye’s recovered? They need sorting through and filing?” She suggested.

He looked nothing short of insulted. He got up and went over to where the soldering iron had been found and hunted around for the desoldering pump. Jemma sighed and closed her eyes. The frustration emanating off of him only feeding her own. With the pump in hand, he marched back toward his desk and with the iron in his right hand and the pump in his shaky left hand, still in its cast, and set to work.

Jemma could see that he couldn’t hold the pump steady and was burning the board. “Let me help?” She offered, taking the pump from his hand. Clearly that was a mistake though. Irritation poured out of him and he knocked the board, along with various chips and resistors, off his desk in frustration where they clattered loudly to the floor. Pushing himself with the desk, his chair wheeled backwards a few feet before he stood up and he angrily left the lab. “Are you okay? Are you coming back?”  She asked as she hurried to pick up the board and parts from the floor. What he sent back was pure thunder.

She needed to decide whether to follow him out or give him time to calm down. She didn’t want to mother him, but nor did she want him to feel alone. She decided to finish up what she was doing as quickly as possible and then go and find him, hopefully he would have calmed down by then. However, within ten minutes she could feel his anger growing, rather than mellowing. After quickly packing up her desk she headed to the kitchen to make him a tea and then went to his bunk. She gently knocked on his door. He mentally told her to come in, although somewhat reluctantly.

“I made you tea.” She said as she opened the door.

“Thanks.”

“Fitz, you need to talk to me, it doesn’t help you by thinking everything.”

“Stop telling me what to do.” He snapped back. “Sorry, I-I didn’t, I didn’t, I don’t mean that.” He said aloud. “I know you’re, you’re, you’re trying and I-I… I app-appr- … thank you.” She knew he meant it, but he was still incredibly angry. “I’m useless.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I-I-I can’t ta-talk, I can’t… I can’t do anything. Ev-ev-… all I was good at… it’s gone.” The more he stuttered and got stuck on his words the more frustrated he became and the more his hand trembled.

“You just need to be patient with yourself.” She said softly.

“Tha-that’s…” He groaned in frustration. “You aren’t the one… it’s me, not you. My, my…” He hit his head in frustration with his good hand. “This!” He yelled, hitting his head again.

“Fitz, please stop.” She grabbed his hand to stop him, but he pulled away from her. Tears threatened behind her eyes, she was so tired of crying, why couldn’t she be like May, and keep a lid on her emotions? “I know the situation is beyond frustrating for you, it might not be me experiencing it, but I do understand, more than anyone else can. And I wish I knew how to help you, but I don’t. I’m either doing too much or too little. I just… I’m sorry, it’s all my fault.” The tears were falling again and she tried to wipe them away as subtly as she could, not that Fitz was looking at her anyway. “I’m really trying Fitz, I am, I just don’t know how to help you.”

“Yeah, well m-may-maybe you, you, should have, have just left me there to, to, left me in the sea, would have been a lot easier for you!”

“Don’t say that…”

“I didn’t, I didn’t ask for you to, for you to… for you to save me!” He bit back, jittering more and more as he struggled for words. Jemma swallowed a sob.

“Well, I didn’t ask for you to sacrifice yourself for me either! But here we are!” She couldn’t help shouting back, his anger was contagious. “You don’t just get to say … to say what you said and then leave me!” It was the first time she’d brought it up. The closest they had got was the accidental thought on his end, first his question when he had first woken up, wondering if she felt the same, and then after that there had been the occasional stray though, him thinking she was beautiful or some other compliment she didn’t know what to do with. Her mention of it brought out a rush of panic from him.

“Well good thing I’m too, I’m too br-, bro-… dam-, damaged for you to need to, need to to to… to do anything about it!” He shouted back.

“That’s what you think? That’s not-” She was interrupted by a loud knocking on the door and Skye appearing in the doorway.

“Hey guys, everything alright?” Skye asked, clearly worried, having been able to hear their shouting match from the corridor.

“We’re fine.” Jemma said, but Fitz just marched out of his bunk leaving her alone with Skye. She inhaled a shaky breath and did her best to wipe away her tears. Skye gave her a sympathetic look before her eye caught the lone mug, untouched by Fitz.

“Lets get a drink, yeah?”

“No, no, I’m quite alright, you’re busy and I’m busy, I still have a lot of catching up to do so I think I’ll just head back to the lab.”

Fitz didn’t come back to the lab and nor was he in his bunk when she went looking for him at the end of the day. In fact no one had seen him. She knew he was somewhere close, she could still feel his presence, although he seemed to have a better grip on reigning in his mind that usual. All she was getting off of him was the occasionally surge of sadness. Like he was grieving. Which was perhaps a good thing, he had been so focused on working hard in his therapy sessions, on getting back to how he used to be, she wasn’t sure he’d really accepted what had happened to him yet. So maybe something good had come out of their argument.

Ever since their argument that morning she had been trying to figure out what to tell him about how she felt regarding his declaration at the bottom of the ocean. But she still hadn’t made any progress. She loved him, she knew that, but what kind of love? She didn’t have much romantic experience to draw upon, to compare her feelings to, but the way she had felt about other men she had dated had little resemblance to how she felt about Fitz.

Everything was so confusing, and the fact that he was so different from how he had been didn’t help either. He had always had a temper but now he was angry all the time and he didn’t even really look like himself, with the stubble he couldn’t shave because of his shaky hands and his adapted wardrobe, no more ties or buttoning up the top button on his shirts. And then there was his shorter haircut, the less hair he had the less he had to battle with his curls. She missed his curls. She missed a lot of things about him but that wouldn’t help him in his recovery. He was different but he was still Fitz.

Eventually she found him, in his old bunk on the Bus. The door was closed and she could hear him sniffing. Gently she tapped her knuckles on the door. “Fitz? Can I come in?” She asked anxiously. She heard shuffling and then the door slid open. His eyes were red and cheeks puffy from crying, his jaw was tense and he looked like he was bracing for a telling off. “I’m sorry. For shouting. And if I ever made you feel like I didn’t believe in you, then I’m sorry for that too. But I’m not sorry for saving you.” She rushed out.

He sniffed and nodded awkwardly. “I’m sorry too.” Jemma had to stop herself wincing at his return to communicating telepathically.

“I don’t think you’re broken or useless or anything like that. I think you’re incredible, you’re so brave and you’re working so hard on your rehab. I see you’re improvements Fitz, you’ve come so far.” She assured him. “I just hate that you’re so angry all the time.”

“It’s not enough.”

“What’s not enough?”

“Me.” He said aloud. “No matter how hard I work, I can’t go back.”

“That’s okay though. You don’t have to go back to how you were. People always grow and change, it’s just happening a little faster for you.” She said softly. For just a moment a stray thought of his invaded its way into her skull. He pulled it back almost as quickly as it got lose but it was too late, she’d heard it. He thought if she couldn’t love him before then there was no chance now that he was broken. “Fitz…” How could she explain to him that that wasn’t it. She didn’t think he was broken, she just didn’t know how she felt, and there was too much going on to even give her mind a chance to even try to figure out what she felt. Her feelings for Fitz refused to be sorted into a neat and tidy box.

“No, sorry, it’s fine. I, I, I… errr, I didn’t mean that.” He mumbled, flushing with embarrassment.

“It’s not that I don’t care for you-” She started, but Fitz thought over the top of her words, cutting her off.

“You don’t need to do this. Really it’s fine.”

“Fitz-”

“Jemma, stop.”

“Don’t you think we should talk about this?”

“No. I don’t.” They stood in a tense standoff for an awkward moment before Fitz entered her mind. “I’m tired, I think I should just go to my bunk.” Jemma reluctantly moved out of his way and watched him disappear. Things didn’t need to go back to exactly how they had been, but she couldn’t bare how things currently were.

Chapter Text

In some ways things started to improve and in others, they got so much worse. Over the next few months Fitz got more comfortable in the lab and they started to find a groove, the issue was that Fitz was completely reliant on her for his communication, he would rarely speak, choosing to think everything to her and let her interpret and speak for him.

Because of this he was distancing himself from everyone else, no one could know they could hear each other, therefore he had no way to communicate with them. It was painful, watching him go backwards and his speech and language therapist was increasingly frustrated with his lack of cooperation. As for his broken arm, his cast was off, but the tremor remained and only got worse when he was stressed, which was whenever anyone other than Jemma was around, as it limited his communication.

Jemma was coming to the conclusion that the thing hindering his progress, was her. He was using her as a crutch, depending on her for his communication because it was easier, because he would rather not talk at all than to stutter and splutter, or stand there jittering as he battled with his brain to express himself.

And the less he talked the less people tried to talk to him. It was a vicious circle and one she didn’t know how to break. She’d tried talking to him about it, telling him he needed to persevere and talk to other people, talk aloud to her, but he didn’t want to. He seemed content to talk to her and her alone. ‘When I’m with you, that’s when I feel clear, when my mind unjumbles. You know what I’m thinking, even if I can’t find the words.’ She had answered with, ‘If you keep practicing then your mind will be clear no matter who you talk to.’ He had answered with, ‘You don’t know that.’

She had even tried ignoring him, refusing to answer unless he spoke to her, but they just ended up in childish standoffs, both refusing to talk to each other. Which was no good when they had so much work to do.

But one thing was becoming clear. Her presence was the problem. Which was how she found herself in Coulson’s office, asking for an assignment that would send her somewhere else, give him some time without her, so that he had to work on his speech. What she hadn’t expected was to be asked to go undercover, at Hydra. Indefinitely. “Can I have some time to think about it?”

“Of course, but you can’t tell anyone about it, the fewer people that know, the safer you will be.”

She turned the idea around in her head all night, unable to sleep. It was the perfect opportunity to give Fitz the space he needed to recover, but it was so drastic. There would be no ability to call him, check up on him or just talk about each other’s days. And no return date either.

Then there was the Hydra factor of it all, she wanted nothing to do with any Hydra scum, let alone work among them, help them. And lie to them. Which everyone knew was not her strong suit. But Coulson believed in her, believed she was the right person for the job. But how could she just leave Fitz, without any explanation? But if her staying hindered his recovery, then how could she stay?

There was a knock on the door. “Are you alright?” Fitz asked.

Of course… she had been worrying so much she’d forgotten to make sure Fitz didn’t pick up on it. There was no point lying, he may not have heard her exact thoughts, but he had felt her anxiety, would know it was about something big. “Ugh, not exactly, no.” She said, loud enough for him to hear her through the door. She got out of bed and let him in, he was in a grey t-shirt and red checked pyjama bottoms and his hair was a little messy from sleep. “Did my worrying wake you?”

He shook his head. “I woke up and felt you, couldn’t sleep while I knew you were worrying.” Why did he have to be so sweet when she had to tell him this?

She took a deep breath. “I’m thinking about leaving for a bit.”

“What?” He said aloud, shock written across the frown on his face. “Why?”

Jemma swallowed. “I… your… I… I don’t think it’s helpful, me being here.” His frown shifted to one of confusion. “I think some time apart would benefit both of us.”

“But I need you.” She pursed her lips and couldn’t help the sad look she gave him. “But that’s the problem…” The sad look that took over his face pulled on her heart, but she knew this was for the best, sometimes you have to use tough love. “So where are you going?” A slightly guilty look betrayed her. “You can’t say… right. So how long will you be?”

“I don’t know.”

“Right, well, you’ve told me, so that’s one less thing to worry about.” He thought bitterly and turned to leave. She wanted to grab him, stop him from leaving and pull him into a hug, but that would reveal where she was going, what she would be doing. So instead, she let him go. And in the morning, she went straight to Coulson’s office and told him that she accepted the mission. He handed her a folder, told her to read it all before she left that afternoon.

When she walked past the lab, back to her bunk, Fitz wasn’t there. Nor was he there when she went looking for him after she had read the folder. Nor was he in the Bus, or anywhere on the base. He had left for a walk according to Koenig and had yet to come back. She reached out to him in her mind but the door to his brain was firmly shut. She had an hour before she left and she still needed to pack, she just hoped he would return by the time she was done.

-x-

“Jemma, you need to go now.” Coulson said as she paced by the base entrance.

“Not until Fitz is back.” She insisted. She had already handed over her phone and laptop, if she didn’t see him before she left, she would have no way of saying goodbye.

“Write him a letter on the way, come on we have to go.” He said firmly. His face softened when he looked at her. “I’m sorry Jemma. But we have a narrow window here.”

Dear Fitz,

I’m sorry to have to say goodbye in a letter, I had wanted to do this in person. I know me leaving is going to be hard, we’ve spent our entire adult lives side by side, but that’s why this is important. We need to be individuals.

You need to focus on your recovery and discovering who you are now. And then, when I return, we can be the best versions of ourselves. I know you don’t want me to go, but I really do believe this is going to help you. Please don’t let yourself grow isolated. New people are joining the base every day and Skye is always here for you.

Just know I’m always thinking about you. Goodbye.

Love Jemma x

It wasn’t ideal, but Coulson promised to give it to him when he returned, and she had also got him to promise to start a man hunt for Fitz if he hadn’t returned to the base by the time Coulson got back.

Coulson dropped her off at a S.H.I.E.L.D. safehouse in Fitzwilliam New Hampshire, the irony of the town’s name making her grief all the more painful. The house was out in the middle of nowhere, specifically bought shortly after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell to act as part of an agent's cover if they needed to go undercover.

The idea was to make it seem like the agent had been living there since S.H.I.E.L.D. fell and had been keeping a low profile. Jemma was to stay there for a month, each week going a little further afield, to make it seem like she was getting the courage to come out of hiding. All the while researching for work where a scientist like herself would be appreciated. This would lead her to investigating Hydra and the scientific opportunities held there, and then, if it all went to plan, she would find out how to apply to their science division.

If she pulled it off, Hydra would believe she had left S.H.I.E.L.D. the moment it fell and that her loyalties were with the pursuit of science rather than any moral code, which would be good enough for them.

The month of isolation was hell. She saw no one apart from on her journeys out to explore. On the third day she went to a tiny family run store. They were happy to chat, but her cover story wouldn’t let her talk for long, she needed to act cautiously. The next week she ventured a little further afield and found another small store, but this one needed to have CCTV and she needed to make sure only the side of her face was caught. The idea being to test whether anyone was looking for her.

Later that week she would go to a mall. Careful to appear to be avoiding CCTV, while actually trying to get caught at least a little bit by it. The third week she would venture into a Walmart, acting less concerned about CCTV and the final week she would go for a meeting to set up a new bank account. Skye had carefully recreated her identity, minus anything related to S.H.I.E.L.D., and with any luck, Hydra would see her actions as one of a former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent getting ready to re-emerge after hiding.

The long gaps between her excursions and online searchers were tedious at best and soul destroying at worst. She missed the team, she missed science, and above all, she missed Fitz. Missed talking to him, seeing him, feeling his presence in her head, hearing his thoughts, the smell of his aftershave, the smile he reserved just for her… everything about him.

And not knowing how he was doing, not knowing if he was getting his independence back, was killing her. All this sacrifice and she didn’t know if it was even helping. No one had made contact with her, Coulson had said contact would be minimal, essential messages only, but still, she couldn’t help but worry for them all. What if something awful had happened? She would have no way of knowing.

She took up running, it was the only thing that seemed to quiet her mind, and the nature around her was so beautiful it seemed like a waste to spend all her days fretting inside. She bought herself a polaroid camera and started taking pictures of the views and attached them to letters to Fitz that she would never be able to send.

Dear Fitz,

This morning I woke to a beautiful sunrise over Bowker Pond (although how a body of water over a kilometre long is considered a pond, I don’t know). The log cabin might not be much, but it is surrounded by so much beauty it’s impossible to feel completely miserable outside. Which is why I try to spend as much time outside as I can. The weather is just right for a morning run (I’m glad I won’t still be here by the winter as it consistently stays below freezing).

Today I went for a walk around the Rhododendron State Park, the flowers were beautiful, I’ve taken some pictures for you. After spending so much time on the Bus and then underground, it’s lovely to be able to spend so much time outside, surrounded by trees, flowers and mountains. I wish you were here with me Fitz, I miss you so much.

Love Jemma.

She dared not write anything more, just in case Hydra found them. She had even wondered whether referencing being underground was too much, but she felt if needed, she could say that it was reference to being stuck in the safe house when she was too fearful to leave and enjoy the nature around her.

During the last two weeks she began looking online at different companies that would require scientists of her calibre, often searching up Hydra in a private tab alongside it, trying to find any information on how to contact them, to appear as if she found the idea of working for a regular company rather boring.

She never got as far as finding out how to contact Hydra, instead they found her. “We’ve been watching you for a while, Miss Simmons. You seem like a valuable asset.” And that was how she found herself moved into a rather nice apartment close to the Hydra lab in Dover Delaware, where she was offered a job. Gone were her morning jogs around the local countryside in Fitzwilliam, instead she had to make do with a short run on a treadmill. The emptiness in her schedule replaced by Hydra’s gruelling work hours.

Her work was frustratingly simple, they clearly didn’t trust her yet, which really, she couldn’t blame them for. The other frustration was how little background information they gave her on her work, she had no context for her work which meant she had pretty much no intel to share with Coulson. He had made contact with her once, just after Hydra had contacted her, instructing her on how to leave messages using dead drops, but so far, she had nothing to report.

The weeks trickled on, with no usable intel and no interesting work. She was simultaneously bored out of her brain and terrified that they would realises she was still working for S.H.I.E.L.D.. And she was lonely, incredibly lonely. She knew a good spy would integrate themselves with the people they were working with, like Ward had done to them, but she couldn’t. They were awful people and she didn’t want anything to do with them. She couldn’t even make herself pretend to like them.

The lonelier she got, the more noticeable the absence of Fitz in her head became. She had, on more than one occasion, tried to reach out to him, if she tried hard enough, perhaps she could do it. Afterall, they had been able to increase the distance they could communicate over when they had first been practicing, they had just got lazy and never bothered to work on communicating over greater distances. But back then, they had been working together, to further their connection, and now, well she had no idea if Fitz even wanted anything to do with her, let alone if he was trying to reach her too.

She was starting to wallow, and it was no good for anyone. She needed to get her head in the game and start seriously trying to work her way up the Hydra ladder. To kick off her new and improved effort she went out and got herself a haircut and a few new outfits, that said ‘I’m a serious scientist and committed to Hydra’, or at least that was what she told herself.

Then she went and bought yellow wall paint, wall pictures and some nice new curtains. The next few weekends were spent decorating and when she was done, she finally felt like the apartment could be a place she could be happy in. Next up she added some house plants, throw pillows, blankets, candles, anything really, that would help her feel more at home in the apartment. It was working, she was the new and improved Jemma Simmons, who got up with a smile and kept it plastered on all day at work. She didn’t entirely feel the smile, but she was selling it to those around her at least. They believed she was happy working for Hydra, therefore it was true.

The one thing she allowed herself was to write a diary, although really it was just a continuation of her letters to Fitz. And the occasional attempt to reach him telepathically. But other than that, she had totally committed herself to her assignment. And it started to work, finally she was getting some interesting work, intel that she could actually send to Coulson using their fast-food dead drop system. She was getting into a rhythm.

And then a file crossed her path pertaining to information on one Donnie Gill, the young man that had lured herself and Fitz to the academy to improve his weather machine.

After that, things got more complicated. She was called upstairs and was interrogated by Mr Bakshi over her link to Donnie Gill before being asked to come along to recruit Donnie Gill. Things didn’t go to plan, but with help from the S.H.I.E.L.D. team that had also gone to find Gill, she managed to ‘save’ Mr Bakshi. Gaining some much-needed trust from him.

Finally, she was invited upstairs for a meeting, a meeting with Daniel Whitehall, who according to her lab partner, Kenneth, was one of Hydra’s new heads. The meeting provided her with great intel but also made her stomach twist. Whitehall wanted to weaponize an alien artifact and she had given him the confidence that it would work, and she was supposed to feel happy about it. Not nauseous.

As soon as she had the chance, she left a message about the worrying alien artifact in a dead drop, which was nerve wracking, nothing had ever been so time sensitive before. She was just settling back into the lab when an alarm blared, and a fierce looking woman announced that they had a S.H.I.E.L.D. mole.

The woman was holding the very flex screen Jemma had used to send her message. She was done for, her desk draw had more flex screens in it, the moment they searched her station they would tow her away and do goodness knows what. She didn’t even want to think about it.

In a move that made her skin crawl, she placed the flex screens in Kenneth’s desk, he was hardly a good person but that didn’t make her feel any less guilty as they knocked him out cold and dragged him away for questioning. She needed to get out of here, they would soon find out that Kenneth was not their mole.

The intimidating woman accosted her in the toilets just after she had flushed the rest of the evidence she had on her down the toilet. Asking her if she had been working with Kenneth or planted the flex screen in his desk. Somehow, she got through the conversation and with a deep breath she left the restroom and headed back to her desk.

She knew anxiety could convince the brain that everyone was looking at you, that they were all judging you, but as she walked to her desk it really did seem like all eyes were on her. And when she saw her computer screen she realised why. A picture of her with the flex screen at lunch was plastered on everyone’s monitors.

She was going to die. She just knew it. She was going to die without even getting to say goodbye to Fitz, without making things right between them.

“Fitz I need you to hear me, oh please hear me Fitz!” She thought as she took off running as Bakshi and his armed guards entered the lab. “FITZ?” She continued to sprint along a corridor with no real plan. “Fitz, please?” As she rounded a corner, she saw another set of guards with the woman from before. “Fitz, their going to kill me or worse, I need you to hear me!”

“Jemma?”

“Fitz!” She didn’t have time to celebrate though, the guards kept walking ever closer and she had no way out, no weapon, nothing.

“Is that really you Jemma?”

“Yes, and I think Hydra’s going to kill me.” She had just finished the thought when the woman produced two batons and proceeded to knock out the guards next to her.

“What, where are you? I’m going to call Coulson!”

“What is happening?” She asked the woman, completely confused and still incredibly frightened.

“Jemma? What’s going on?” Fitz asked her.

“Don’t worry. Coulson has a plan.” The woman said as she pushed her down a corridor.

“Jemma?”

“Someone from S.H.I.E.L.D. is here.”

“So you’re okay?”

“For now.” She thought back to him before addressing the woman who seemed to be saving her. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, because I am truly grateful, but who are you?”

“Bobbi Morse. Coulson sent me in to infiltrate Hydra and keep an eye on you.”

“Well, you did a spot-on job. Really, you were quite intimidating.” They continued to talk as Morse found them a safe route through the building and to the roof, where apparently there was an extraction team waiting for them. Fitz continued to ask questions in her head, she had rather worried him, what with the panicked message that had invaded his thoughts. Despite the stress of the situation, having him back in her head was truly wonderful. And his thoughts seemed clearer than when she had left. Her leaving had helped him. Which really made the last few months of hell worth it.

Their escape culminated in a shootout on the roof and a terrifying jump off the side of the building. Only to be caught by a cloaked quinjet piloted by Trip. She was finally safe, and on her way back to Fitz. Who, she suddenly realised, was no longer in her head. With the adrenaline fading away it seemed so had their connection, but it didn’t matter, not when she was soon to be reunited with him. So instead of trying to reforge their connection she settled into the cockpit with Trip and had a much needed catch up. He filled her in on all that she had missed, although was frustratingly tight lipped about Fitz. But it wouldn’t be long now, she would see for herself how he was, the improvements he had made.

As they got closer to the Playground and she started to try to reach out to Fitz again. But it took until they were less than a mile out before she could even feel him, and even then he wouldn’t let her in. But why? Wasn’t he excited to see her too?

He was still blocking her when they entered the base. Coulson didn’t keep her for long, knowing she wanted to talk with Fitz, who was watching them from the lab. Bracing herself for every outcome, she entered the lab and saw Fitz slowly make his way towards her. He was still wearing his shirt with the top button undone and without a tie. In the dim light it was hard to make out, but it seemed his stubble still sat upon his cheeks too.

“Hi Fitz.”

“Simmons.” He hadn’t called her Simmons in a long time. He watched her anxiously, massaging his left hand. She walked closer and grew more anxious the more she took him in. He looked the same really, but what little confidence he had had seemed to have shrunk further.

“How have you been?” She asked, trying to keep her anxious hands from fidgeting. He just shrugged. “I thought maybe we could get some tea and catch up?”

“Uhhh… well… I urm… I have a lot… a lot of, a lot of work so…”

“Right, another time then.” The disappointment poured off of her, she hadn’t had to think about controlling her emotions for months and she felt like she had lost all her skills in reigning herself in. There was a guilty twitch on Fitz’s face before he turned around and went to his desk. She turned and fled to her bunk, not that it really felt like hers, not anymore.

What had happened? He’d seemed relieved to hear her when she had reached him at Hydra, but now he didn’t want anything to do with her. Had all her sacrifice done nothing but destroy their relationship? She knew he would be able to sense her crying, but she couldn’t hold it back, despite her attempts. But the fact that she knew he knew, and he never came to her bunk to check on her made her cry all the more. It seemed like he hated her. Which didn’t feel like something they could come back from.

Chapter Text

Working in the lab was excruciating. Fitz would barely even look at her, let alone talk to her and he continued to block her thoughts. He would sit at his desk agonising over his work, muttering to himself over his shoulder and refusing to let anyone help him. Her leaving had indeed stopped him from relying on her but the cost to his mental health seemed to be enormous.

From what she could piece together, he had grown incredibly isolated, talking to himself and brushing off the others attempts at talking to him. And as everyone else got busier, their attempts at reaching out to him dried up, making him even more isolated than before. It made her nauseous just thinking about it. The only person who seemed to regularly talk to him was the new mechanic, Mack. He seemed to be good with Fitz, but he always gave her a hard stare, which made her wonder what exactly Fitz had told him about her.

She had been back three days when Bobbi told her someone had been by her old apartment and boxed up all her personal belongings. The box contained her pictures, two blankets, some candles, several books and her stash of tea. And at the very bottom were all the polaroid’s clipped to the letters she had written to Fitz and her diary.

She set to work making her bunk feel more like home, putting the pictures up on the walls, some were paintings she had bought and others were pictures she had taken during her time in New Hampshire. The pictures of herself and Fitz had been taken down the night she returned, they were simply too painful to look at, leaving the brick walls of her bunk even more bare than before. She had hidden them in the bottom draw of her dresser, where the letters and diary were now placed as well.

With her room freshly decorated it felt a little more like home. It was perhaps the only thing that felt like home at the Playground, so much had changed while she had been away, and everyone was so busy there was little time for anyone to make her feel welcome. And then there was Fitz, who was most definitely not making her feel welcome.

Each morning she had greeted him and so far, he had ignored her. But today he would need to at least acknowledge her. There had been an attack on the U.N. which had framed S.H.I.E.L.D. and used weapons she had seen at Hydra. Coulson wanted her to look through the hard drive she had brought back to find out everything she could about them. The problem was the hard drive was damaged and Fitz had yet to have the time to look at it.

With as much cheer as she could muster, she greeted him and to her relief, he responded. Things were starting well. She asked him if he could help her with the hard drive and he seemed happy enough to help, maybe he didn’t completely hate her… As she approached him, getting closer to him than she had since before she left, she explained to him that the drive was damaged, but she didn’t get very far into her explanation. He was staring at her. Very intensely and it was making her feel more than a little uneasy.

“What?” She asked, unable to focus with him staring like that.

“Just, umm… you look different, that’s all.” He said taking the hard drive from her hands, careful not to let their skin touch.

“Oh.” What was she supposed to make of that comment, did he mean to say he didn’t like her haircut?

“Not bad, different. Just…” He trailed off and awkwardly nodded his head from side to side. She couldn’t tell if he was trying to make conversation or covering up his embarrassment at being caught staring. And the fact that she couldn’t tell bothered her. Plastering on a smile, she leaned in as he opened up the hard drive. “We probably need to first look at the er…”

“The shock sensor.” She offered, slipping back into her old habit of finishing his sentences for him.

“Um, no. The umm.. err..”

“Voice actuator?” She offered again.

“No. Um, Jemma, can you…” He closed his eyes tightly in concentration. Her input clearly was hindering rather than helping him.

“Um I’m sorry. I…” How had they fallen so out of sync? Even if their personal relationship was in tatters, she had thought their working relationship would pull through, and maybe that would help rekindle their friendship. But, once again it seemed, she was wrong.

“I know. It’s just, you said you needed my help, so…”

“No. I do, yeah. Of course, I do. I…” The last thing she wanted was for him to think that she knew his subject better than him. She had just been trying to help, not make him feel stupid.

“It’s the… Micro, uh…” He tapped at the hard drive. “This thing. The… here. Yeah.” He said, giving up on finding the word, and she didn’t dare attempt to finish his sentence for him again.

“Oh, yeah. I see.” She said, trying to keep her positive tone despite the fact that her eyes were filling with tears. “I see that.” She added barely above a whisper. How had she ruined the best thing in her life? She knew going away had been a gamble, she had thought maybe he would resent her for it, but that could be fixed, a few conversations and he would see that she had been trying to help him.

She has felt so positive after she had managed to reach him in her panic when fleeing from Hydra. She has thought that maybe he had come to understand why she had left. But this, this distance and awkwardness, her inability to understand him... the chasm that had opened between them, that she had not expected.

Their relationship was broken and her leaving seemed to have barely helped him, if at all.

She couldn’t help but be angry with Coulson. He had known her reason for leaving, he had known she wanted Fitz to get better. And there had been a full month where she had been in New Hampshire when he could have pulled the plug, brought her home upon seeing Fitz’s decline. Or he could have let her know at the very least. He could have done something. But she knew what he would say to her, the mission came before them, all of them. And in theory she agreed with that, but in practice, when it was Fitz… then no mission could ever come before him.

Things only got worse once he had gained access to the hard drive data. She had noticed him staring at a design blueprint for a while and muttering to himself, so she had thought she best go over and check on him. Which had obviously been the wrong thing to do, because every choice she made was the wrong one.

He had tried to explain to her what he was seeing, and foolishly she tried to help him again. But he didn’t want it. He didn’t want her or her help. Didn’t even want her looking at him.

“You left! I needed help.” He burst out. Her eyes fell, unable to look at him under the weight of her own guilt. “I needed help with the cloaking, I needed help with lots of other things. And someone to talk through, at least. You gave up on me.” His voice broke near then end and she couldn’t help but mourn the lack of connection, the lack of any emotion coming off of him and into her.

How he was keeping such a handle on things, she didn’t know, especially with them both being so out of practice. Perhaps his anger towards her was just so strong he was able to do it easily.

“I did no such thing.” She answered, needing him to understand how wrong he was. She had not and never would give up on him.

“You told me you were thinking about leaving, that I was too clingy and then the next thing I know, you’ve snuck off whilst I was out. Gone, leaving me some half-hearted letter. And then, and then you come, come in- invading my head and tell me you’re about to die, that’s how I find out where you are! You’d rather risk your life than be with me, because what? Because you think I’m useless?”

“Of course I don’t. That’s not why I left.” She insisted. How could he have misunderstood her so badly? How could he think the worst of her after all their years side by side?

“Well, then why?”

“Fitz… I left to help you.”

“No, you left to help yourself, you didn’t want to, want to, to deal with me anymore.” The anger behind his words caused her to recoil. There were tears in his eyes and hurt written all across his face. And yet still there was no wash of emotion from his head to hers.

“That’s not true, Fitz. Maybe I made a mistake, but please don’t doubt that I had your best interests at heart.” Tears were rolling down her cheeks, but she couldn’t find the energy to care.

Fitz looked at her doubtfully. “Sure.” He said bitterly. Jemma drew in a shaky breath and turned around, unable to stay in the lab a moment longer. He wouldn’t or couldn’t hear her. Refused to consider that she had done what she thought was best for him. Did he think their friendship meant nothing to her? Did he think so little of her, that she was so shallow, that she would ditch him when things got tough? Maybe leaving had been a mistake, maybe she should have done things differently but that didn’t change the meaning behind her actions.

She fled to her bunk and allowed herself a moment to cry out the rest of her tears before pulling herself back together. She washed her face, fixed her make up and headed to the kitchen to make them each a cup of tea, their time old method of setting a truce. Although their arguments in the past had never been like this one…

When she re-entered the lab Fitz was chatting away to Mack, seemingly unaffected by their argument. The moment he saw her his posture shifted from relaxed to on edge.

Between the two of them they filled her in on what Fitz had been trying to tell her earlier, that the bombs were designed by a Hydra scientist in the 1940’s called Vincent Beckers. Before she had time to lament that it was Mack who had understood Fitz and not herself, she remembered where she had heard the name Beckers before.

Once again, the mission took focus, and the damage to her and Fitz’s relationship would have to wait. Vincent Beckers was the grandfather of Julien Beckers who had publicly spoken out against the anti S.H.I.E.L.D. taskforce. It was a set up. A trap to cross off S.H.I.E.L.D. agents seeking refuge in Belgium.

In the end they had been too late. If Jemma had been able to let Fitz talk, wait for him to tell her what he saw, instead of fighting with him, then maybe they could have got there in time. But she hadn’t. Not only was she ruining her professional relationship with Fitz, but she was costing fellow agents their lives. Yet another mistake she would have to try to make peace with, learn to live with…

Jemma kept out of Fitz’s way after that, things were tense and she didn’t want another argument. For the most part their work didn’t have much crossover and they could avoid one another in the lab. The tension between them didn’t stop her from feeling proud of him when he had his first mission back in the field though. He was making improvements, getting better, but that seemed to be in spite of her and her attempts to help. While Fitz was out on the Bus with Coulson, Skye and Trip, she stayed at the base with the rest of the team, trying to figure out what they could about Whitehall.

It was a pleasant change, hunting through paper files dating back to the SSR, some of the files had even been signed or written by Peggy Carter herself. Her hunt through the documents had found them a new lead, one Werner Reinhardt.

After May revealed a hidden vault full of further documents, they started to piece together what had happened. He appeared to have found a way to de-age himself and had taken on the name of Daniel Whitehall. But how this linked to the underground city they were searching for was still unclear.

The Bus team had played their part and got them the location of the city that they and Hydra were after, they just needed to get there before Hydra did. Before Hydra could use it to activate whatever it was that the obelisk could do. She and Fitz would be responsible for assessing the structural integrity of the city and finding the location of the temple.

The prospect of working directly with Fitz was filling her with anxiety, they had barely spoken to each other in the weeks since their argument and she had no idea what to do if he struggled to find a word, should she just wait patiently for him or offer him the word she thought he was going for? Both options had caused problems previously…

She was gathering all the equipment they would need from the garage, their former lab she thought wistfully, when Bobbi came in, announcing they were ready to go. Jemma still had to locate the D.W.A.R.F.s case and asked Bobbi if she had seen them, which of course she hadn’t.

“Well, ask Fitz. I’m sure he’ll know.” Bobbi answered.

“Ah.” No thank you, she thought. “No, that’s all right. I’m sure it’s around here somewhere.” She answered, hoping to give off the impression that she simply didn’t want to bother Fitz when she was sure she would find it any minute. She was just peering behind some other crates when Bobbi spoke again.

“So, how long were you two a thing?” Bobbi asked hesitantly.

Jemma couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her mouth, talk about getting the wrong end of the stick. “A ‘thing’? Fitz and I? No.” Unfortunately what she had hoped would sound casual came off as anything but, and what with this being Bobbi, she knew she needed to do better at being convincing. “I mean, we never…” Well that wasn’t true was it? “I… I never dreamed-” She corrected.

“Okay, I’m gonna stop you right there.” Bobbi said with a chuckle. Clearly her time at Hydra had not improved her ability to lie. Although she wasn’t lying, not really, just omitting, omitting Fitz’s confession and the completely insignificant detail that they were soulmates.

“‘Cause if this were an interrogation, you’d have given me about nine visual cues to put you away. Maybe ten.” Jemma tried to busy herself with checking the equipment, this was not a conversation she particularly wanted to have, especially with someone she hardly knew. “Look, I know the story of what Ward did to you two. How Fitz’s brain was damaged. That’s not your issue, is it?” Bobbi was perceptive, too perceptive. It had never been his injury that she was bothered about, she had never been uncomfortable about it or thought less of him, no matter what Fitz himself thought.

“No.” It was how best to help him that had caused issues, that were further complicated by his feelings and their psychic connection. Not that she could say anything about the last part.

“So what happened?” Bobbi pressed.

Jemma knew what Bobbi was fishing for, and without overthinking it, she opened her mouth and told her what she had yet to tell anyone else. “We were in the bottom of the ocean, in a storage pod, left for dead. And Fitz, he said something that caught me completely off guard.”

“Ah, those three little words.”

“Yes! Well, no. I mean, not exactly… I barely had a moment to process what he was saying, or how I felt about it. Next thing I know he’s giving me the oxygen, water’s rushing in, and…” She stopped herself, she had yet to talk much about the experience and speaking about it was bringing all the pain and terror back, and that wasn’t the point of her story, the point was Fitz.

“He’s… He’s lying there, in a hospital bed. He was so pale.” The deadly complexion of his skin still haunted her. Reminded her of the agonising minutes when he was resuscitated in front of her. Minutes that she tried her best to block from her memory.

“How long was Fitz in the coma?” Bobbi asked softly.

“Nine of the longest days of my life.” Jemma answered, finding a seat on the crate behind her, unable to stop her legs from shaking. “And when it finally broke, he couldn’t speak. He… He just stared at me, confused.” She left out the part where she could hear all his thoughts… “All I wanted to do was help him. All I wanted was my best friend back.”

“Your best friend?”

“I never thought of him as anything else.” Which was the problem, they were soulmates after all, clearly it had occurred to Fitz. It must be her that there was something wrong with, she was the broken one for not feeling what she was supposed to. “That said, I can’t imagine my life without him.” Even when they had been separated, with her at Hydra and he at S.H.I.E.L.D., he had been on her mind constantly. Was that normal for a best friend? Perhaps not? But they had never really lived normal lives, had they? “It’s all very confusing.”

“You never told him any of this, have you?”

“Oh, lord, no.” What was there to say? I’m confused? Like that would be helpful to him…

“Yeah, it’s tough.” Bobbi answered sympathetically. “I wish I could give you some advice. But I’ve never been friends with a guy first. It’s always been a roller coaster. Fast out of the gate. Hit the drop, the turn, the loop. The screeching halt. Then back in line to do it all over again.”

“But is the ride worth it?” Jemma asked, it didn’t seem like the most helpful metaphor for her though. If she started anything with Fitz, well that was it surely? They were soulmates, it was supposed to work out, right? But what if it didn’t? There would be no going back, not that there currently was much of a friendship to go back to… And anyway, it was all a pointless thought experiment, she had missed her window of opportunity, Fitz wanted nothing to do with her.

“I’ll let you know when it’s over.” She said with a smile.

“Can I ask you something else?” Jemma said cautiously. When Bobbi nodded, she proceeded. “What if you were in a great relationship, and then you found your soulmate, what would you do?” It wasn’t really the question she wanted to ask, she wanted to know if she thought soulmates were fool proof, never any mistakes, but she couldn’t just ask that out right, she needed to work her way to it.

“Not sure… I think our soulmates are the person we are one hundred percent matched to, but that doesn’t mean we can’t find people we are eighty or ninety percent matched to. Don’t lose opportunities because you’re waiting on your soulmate. There are too many people on this planet, most people never meet their soulmate these days. Don’t let the opportunities in front of you go because you’re waiting on a small chance of something better.”

“So you think soulmates are always right, they don’t make mistakes?”

“Well I’ve certainly never heard of that, but who knows, so few of us meet ours these days, I don’t let myself get hung up on it too much. Besides, I don’t think I want anyone snooping about my head, soulmate or not.” She said with a laugh and turned to head back upstairs. Growing more sombre than before she spoke once more. “You know, at the very least you should be honest with him. If you don’t have trust…” She left her last words unspoken and headed up the spiral stairs. Maybe she was right though, it wasn’t like things between them could get any worse.

-x-

The journey aboard the quinjet was awkward, and everyone knew it was her and Fitz’s fault, which made it even more uncomfortable. But armed with Bobbi’s advice, Jemma was determined to talk to him when the moment presented itself. And she once again tried to reach him telepathically. Just to let him know she wanted to talk so that he wouldn’t avoid her, not that you really could avoid each other in the tiny quinjet. It didn’t matter though, he wouldn’t let her in.

Silently they packed up the gear they would be taking while Coulson and Bobbi went ahead to find the entrance point to the city. “Okay, I’m going to go check on the landing gear.” Mack said with a sigh, making it very clear he was sick of the awkwardness.

“What? No, no. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. Wh- why? Why?” Fitz stammered out, clearly in a panic at the thought of being left alone with her.

“Because the awkward silence in here is killing me.” Mack said pointedly, and left the quinjet. Jemma tried not to let the anxiety flood out of her, but most importantly she tried to stop the pain she felt from Fitz’s reaction from rolling out of her and into him.

She turned away, summoning the courage she needed, this was her opportunity, she had to seize it. “I’d like to say something-” She started, only to be cut off by Fitz talking over her.

“I’ve been thinking-”

“Please let me-” She pushed on.

“No, I know-” Fitz interrupted again.

“-go first. There’s something-” If he didn’t let her say it now then she might never find the courage again.

“-I know, but I’ve got-”

“-I need to address-”

“- a whole-”

“No! I-” She said as loud as she dared. With a sharp inhale she continued, talking as fast as she could, not wanting to give him a chance to interrupt her again. “I know things have been difficult between us since I got back from being undercover, but I need you to understand that I didn’t leave because of what happened to you-”

“No, no Jemma. Jemma please, because I’ve got a whole, umm, I- it’s just hard enough to get the words out.” Fitz cut in again. This wasn’t fair. He needed to hear what she had to say, she had let it go on long enough, let him stumble around in the dark with no real response from her. So as he spoke she reach out to him, pulling him gently by the arm so that he would face her and then grabbed his hand. “I’ve been thinking…” The words dried up the moment she touched him and her thoughts poured into him.

“I left to help you, not because of your brain injury or because of what you said at the bottom of the ocean. But because I was making you worse and everyone could see it. I couldn’t be the barrier between you and your recovery.” She thought as quickly as she could.

He pulled his hand back and set his jaw. “Just because I needed your, your help... didn’t mean I was confused about boundaries, you didn’t need to leave.” He said after a moment.

“What are you talking about?”

“I could have handled it. I can handle it and I could then too.”

“Handle what?” She asked exasperated.

“Your, your… your… re- reg-… you saying no. I didn’t tell you because I… because I wanted anything in return, I told you so that you would accept the… accept the… air. So that you know before I… You didn’t need to leave. I wasn’t expecting anything.”

The sad look on his face, matched with his words, broke her heart all over again. “That’s not why I left. I just told you, I was making you worse. It was to help you.” He thought she had left because he was clinging to her and that she thought that meant he expected her to like him back? He thought she didn’t trust him enough to simply tell him she wasn’t interested… No wonder he hated her.

“If that’s true… why, why are you, are you locking me out?” Fitz challenged.

“Locking you out of what?” Jemma asked, once again puzzled by what he was saying.

“Your head!”

“What?” Her frown had gone from one of confusion, not knowing what he was on about, to one of complete befuddlement, she wasn’t the one blocking him, he was blocking her.

“You won’t let me it, I kept trying to talk to you, but you don’t, you don’t, but you don’t want anything to do with me.” He said, devastation lining his words.

“No. It’s you…you’ve been blocking me…” Unless… Had their time apart damaged their connection so badly they had completely lost the ability to communicate without touch?

“But… but you reached me when you were at Hydra?” Fitz said slowly, coming to the same conclusion as her.

“Adrenaline must have overcome whatever it is that’s caused us to lose our connection… This whole time I’ve been back… we’ve…” They had both been reaching out to each other, none the wiser that the other couldn’t hear them. Thinking they were deliberately blocking the other out.

They both stood in silence for a while, letting the revelation sink in, re-examining all their memories where they thought the other had cut them out. “You, you could have… gone anywhere, why, why Hydra?” Fitz asked, stepping back from her and placing his hands on his hips. Clearly he still wasn’t convinced by her explanation.

“That was the mission he gave me.” She told him.

“So… umm that’s why you were ummm… that’s why you were so worried that night? The night before you left? You were worried because it was dangerous?”

“In part. But I was mostly worried about you, worried if leaving was the right thing for you. Worried because I didn’t know how long I’d be gone for or what Coulson would tell you. Your speech, it was getting worse, you were relying on me to speak for you, and I tried everything I could think off to help you, but none of it worked. Coulson knew why I was leaving, I thought he would bring me back if you got worse. There was a whole month before I started working for Hydra, I thought he would bring me back if my leaving didn’t help you.”

“But he didn’t…”

“I didn’t leave because I didn’t want you, or thought you were a burden or useless or whatever it is you’ve been telling yourself all these months, I left because I thought it was best for you, it certainly wasn’t best for me. I hated it, every moment was agony. But I did it for you, because I love you. I just don’t know what that means.” The look of hope followed by confusion on Fitz’s face made her stomach drop. Maybe she had used the wrong words… or the right ones… it was all so confusing.

Fitz’s lip quivered. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, there hasn’t been a moment to think. You were sacrificing yourself for me and then you were drowning and then they were resuscitating you and then you were in hospital. In a coma. And I didn’t know if you would make it. And then you were awake but all that mattered was your recovery. And then I- I was making you worse, so I had to leave. And then I was gone and missing you more than I thought was humanly possible. And then I came back and you hated me, or that’s how it seemed anyway.” She corrected. “There’s never been a moment to think.”

“I didn’t need to think, I just knew.” His words were tender, but a hint of disappointment crept through.

“Well lucky you with your emotions so clear and in neat little boxes.” She said with more bitterness than she intended.

“Neat boxes? My feelings don’t fit in any box Jemma.” He said louder than before but not quite shouting either.

“Well all I know is you’re the most important person in my life, the rest is a confusing mess, I’m sorry if that’s not helpful for you, but it’s not exactly been easy for me either!” She knew she was shouting, and he really didn’t deserve it, but she couldn’t stop herself. Months of anger and confusion and grief seemed to all pour out of her at once.

 She wasn’t sure when, but at some point, during their argument they had edged closer to each other and now she could feel his breath on her face. Some deep instinct within her switched on and before she could think, she was pressing her lips to his. The explosion of thoughts that erupted from Fitz was immense, but for the first time they didn’t overwhelm her. In fact, she felt more at home against his lips than she had ever felt before.

Fitz’s thoughts were all jumbled around, indecipherable, and she was sure what he received from her was a jumbled mess too. But the love and affection that rushed out of Fitz and into her was clear as day.

Even if her brain didn’t know quite what was going on, her body sure did. She brought her fingers up and ran them over his stubble before reaching behind his head and running them through his hair. He in return wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer, as he moved his lips gently against hers.

There was a bang and they jolted apart just as Mack stuck his head back in the quinjet. He looked at them with a suspicious eye. “Are you two ready?”

“Uhh, just one more minute.” Fitz mumbled after clearing his throat, Mack rolled his eyes and left them, once again alone, in the jet.

Chapter Text

“Uh… we should… we should, uh, get back to work and then talk when we’re done, r-right?” Fitz said sounding rather uncertain, after Mack had disappeared.

“Yes, that uh, that sounds sensible.” Jemma agreed, although how they were supposed to focus on work again, she didn’t know. She turned around to pick up her equipment and realised that her hand had found its way to her lips, touching where he had just touched her moments before.

Things were a different kind of awkward now, and she was pretty sure Mack knew exactly what he had walked in on, he had probably heard her shouting too… She even caught him giving Fitz a jovial slap on the back when Mack thought they were out of her eyeline.

She was now filled with a whole new kind of anxiety, where did they go next? They couldn’t exactly go from how they had been to… well something more. And her own feelings were still a mess in her head. But the kiss… that had felt right, righter than any other kiss she had ever had. Perhaps her problem was that she was comparing her feelings for Fitz to those she had had for the people she had dated in the past. They had all been rather boring and really couldn’t compare to Fitz in anyway whatsoever.

Of course her feelings for Fitz had no resemblance to them, because really, beyond attraction, what feelings had she had for them? That was the big question though, was she attracted to Fitz? She wasn’t not attracted to him, she had just hadn't really thought about it before. He was just Fitz.

On their walk to the entrance of the city she found herself watching him, looking at him differently, really seeing him. And really, he was very handsome, how she hadn’t seen it before was a mystery. Sure, back when they had first met she had thought he was cute, but what with how competitive they had been in the very beginning and then the shock of finding out they were soulmates, she hadn’t ever really spent any more time thinking about his looks.  But now she was thinking about it she couldn’t believe how obtuse she had been. He didn’t have a single flaw; his jawline and cheekbones were well angled, his nose cute, and his blue eyes… well she’d always appreciated his blue eyes, but you could get lost in them, blue like the ocean. Bad comparison... but still, beautiful none the less. And his hair, the thought of combing her hands through his curls again sent a shiver down her spine.

But he was still Fitz, her best friend, and it was taking some turning over in her brain to understand this knew light she was seeing him in. But first and foremost, they needed to sort things out between them, there was a lot of hurt and misunderstanding still to work though. And one kiss didn’t mean much, not really, it didn’t mean they should jump into anything, it didn’t mean her brain had straightened out her mess of emotions.

What she did know was this, the kiss had been good, more than good, and she now had a better appreciation of his physical appearance, but that wasn’t enough information to go making life changing decisions with.

By the time they arrived at the sentry post where they could access the city, she had got herself into a right old muddle again. She longed to have Fitz’s certainty, but he had always been more in touch with his emotions, more aware of himself. Whereas she had always struggled, wanting everything to fit into neat, labelled boxes, which reality rarely allowed for.

While they set up their equipment, she tried to keep conversation going between herself, Mack and Fitz, not wanting the awkwardness to seep back in. The room wasn’t exactly small, but it felt rather claustrophobic and something about it unsettled her, and the last thing they needed was her and Fitz making things more tense than they already where.

The garrison was a little creepy really, she had to admit, what with the (albeit preposterous) ghost stories, dingy light and the newly installed gaping hole. There was an alien city below after all, they didn’t really know what they were walking into.  

“How’s it coming?” Coulson asked as he and Bobbi entered the garrison. She and Fitz flustered over who should present. She couldn’t tell if Fitz was being chivalrous or awkward in his insistence that she should talk, because really, she was here more to assist him as most of their work today fell comfortably into his field of expertise. “Someone start talking.” Coulson cut in, ending their little back and forth.

Fitz confirmed that they were ready to deploy the D.W.A.R.F.s and began to tap away at his tablet. As he muttered to himself, she wondered if he might need help, but she held her tongue. Talking to himself seemed to help him put his thoughts in order so she waited at his side, hoping if he needed help, he would ask her.

The D.W.A.R.F.s came to life and flew off down the hole and they all carefully peered over to watch. “How long will it take to survey the tunnel and locate the temple?” Coulson asked.

“Uh, depends on several factors, like the tec-tec-tect-” He looked to her for help after getting stuck and Jemma wondered if this was a sign of progress or of him slipping back into bad habits.

“Tectonic stress levels?” She offered, hoping it was the former.

“Tectonic stress levels, yes.” He echoed after her. “And the structural…” He dragged out the end of the word, trying to buy himself time to find the next.

“Integrity.” She prompted quietly.

“Structural integrity of the tunnels, how uh… how damaged they are and how deep they go.” He finished. She smiled gently to him and he smiled back, reassuring her that he had found her input helpful.

Things continued as planned for about ten seconds, before the D.W.A.R.F.s signal cut out. Meaning they would have to get their data the old-fashioned way, by sending someone down.

Mack volunteered to go down, and once again things seemed to be going smoothly, although Fitz seemed very anxious. Mack shouted up when he hit the bottom and then there were thirty or so seconds of silence before a roaring scream echoed up the shaft. They scrambled to get him up, and for the first time since her return, she could feel Fitz’s emotions rolling off of him without contact. It felt like a positive step but the situation was far too stressful to celebrate.

They pulled Mack up, his body convulsing like he was having a seizure. He continued to scream out in agony. Seeing the strong and usually calm Mack, writhe around in pain was disturbing. But the strangest part was that there were no visible wounds on him, leaving the cause of his pain unclear.

Suddenly Mack stilled and groaned out something inaudible. When Mack spoke a second time there was no mistaking his deep growl. “Run.” And then he hit Coulson so hard he flew across the room.

From there the chaos only grew. Their icers were useless against him and he was strong, too strong. Fitz went for a real gun as Coulson pried Mack off Bobbi. Mack flipped Coulson off him, and Jemma desperately reached for the case next to her and hit him with it. Mack knocked her back easily, sending her sliding across the room.

She let out a scream as she slid towards the edge of the hole and promptly into it, feeling the ground give way to nothing beneath her. She heard Fitz shout her name as firm hands wrapped around her lower leg. Craning her head up she saw Coulson, holding onto her leg, having saved her from certain death.

“Coulson!” She cried out, unable to process how quickly things had gone to hell. All Jemma could do was scream as she hung upside down, praying Coulson’s grip wouldn’t fail. Coulson shouted at Fitz to shoot Mack and she heard Mack roar before a crackling electrical sound hit him, causing him to groan out in pain. Coulson pulled her out of the hole just in time for her to see Mack’s lifeless body fall down the shaft. Bobbi cried out as he fell, and a wave of sheer panic radiated off of Fitz.

“Seal the tunnel.” Coulson ordered.

“What? What about Mack?” Bobbi cried out, more emotional than Jemma had ever seen her before.

“That wasn’t Mack.” Coulson replied.

There was a moment were nobody moved, too shocked by what had happened to do anything. But when Coulson spoke again, they burst into action. Nobody spoke as they packed their equipment and headed back to the jet. In the car back there was further bad news. Skye had been taken by Ward who was working with Hydra once again, which made Jemma feel sick and her stomach twisted with worry. Why could they never just have something go right, or even just face one problem at a time?

The Bus was en route to them, so at least she and Fitz would have more resources available to them but seeing as they had no idea what had happened to Mack, she was unsure what exactly they were supposed to do.

With their lab no longer in existence on the Bus they headed to the Cage for some quiet and privacy.

“Are you okay?” She asked as the door closed behind them. She knew he wasn’t, but she didn’t know what else to say. He shook his head and sank down against the wall. A year ago, Jemma would have felt confident on how to help him and what to say, but now she had no idea what he needed. So she just sat down next to him and put her hand over his knee. He leant his head against her shoulder and silently grieved his friend.

Despite the anxiety and confusion brought on by their kiss earlier, with his head leaning against her, things almost felt normal. He was seeking comfort in her, and for the first time in a long time, things didn’t feel tense between them. She felt a small glimmer of hope, maybe there was a way through the mess that their relationship had become. Maybe she could fix things between them. “He, he might still be alive Fitz, we don’t know he’s gone.” She said quietly.

“You don’t have to say that, just because he was my friend.” He lifted his head off her shoulder and rubbed his forehead, pushing his fingers against his eyes. And just like that, the hope she had started to flicker, his walls were going back up right before her eyes. She needed to make sure he knew she wasn’t pitying him, or just saying it to make him feel better, but that she had some sort of scientific reasoning behind her hope.

“We’re dealing with alien tech, alien biology. Who knows what might have happened to Mack down there? We can’t count him out.” The problem was there were too many unknowns, how could one form a hypothesis with so little information. But she wasn’t wrong, the fact that they knew so little also meant they couldn’t jump to conclusions about Mack’s fate either.

“I guess, do you really think there’s a chance?” He asked hesitantly, like he didn’t want hope, just for it to be dashed.

“I think there is a chance yes, how great a chance, I don’t know…” She admitted. “If we had any information at all on what was down there, we’d at least have a starting point.” She said, more frustration than she had intended seeping into her voice.

Sometimes if felt like the team expected them to perform miracle after miracle. But this time, the life of their teammate and Fitz’s friend, was on the line. Not that they knew for certain there was still a life to save... But they had to hope.

Mack was important to Fitz, and for Fitz she would do anything. That much she was certain about. So if she needed to perform a miracle for Fitz, she’d be damn well sure she would figured out how.

“I’ve been thinking about self-defence, the city, what if it reacts when it senses a threat? Like the err, the obelisk does when it’s touched.” He proposed. “We… uh… we both know that alien materials can react negatively to human biology.” He said uncomfortably, clearly not wanting to bring back bad memories for her. Her brush with death due to an alien virus seemed like ancient history, she had had so many more near misses it seemed par for the course now.

“The way white blood cells fight off bacteria or a virus.” She added.

“Yeah. Which is why I’m afraid that Mack’s most likely dead.” He finished, growing sombre again. But Jemma refused to let him give up hope, she proposed the hypothesis that she had begun building while he had presented his. That the city had somehow co-opted Mack, taken control and if it was using him as a defence system then perhaps it would protect him from damage too, it would account for his strength and immunity to their icers.

With hope once more, they set to work, figuring out how to protect the rest of the team from the city and how to rescue Mack, which proved difficult with their lack of evidence. 

In the end they just had to hope that either removing Mack from the city or blowing the city up would destroy whatever connection it had to him. As for their own protection, hazmat’s seemed like a good way of safeguarding themselves and stopping the temple from sensing them.

To add to the pressure Bobbi and Hunter had discovered Hydra were set up in a theatre, right next to the chamber they believed housed whatever it was that would activate the obelisk. May and Coulson set off to join Bobbi and Hunter in stopping Hydra, which left herself, Fitz and Trip to go down into the temple and set up the charges.

Mack wasn’t at the bottom of the shaft, which hopefully meant he had survived the fall, the only issue now was whether they would be able to find him before blowing the city up and even if they did find him, how would they bring him to the surface?  

But there was no sign of Mack by the time they had set the first two explosives and Jemma started to lose confidence in their ability to save him. His fate seemed to lie with the temple, the only question would be whether he would be aware of his demise.

“What’s wrong?” Fitz asked Trip, who was looking a little anxious, which on someone as collected as Trip was rather unsettling.

“This is taking a little longer than I’d hoped.” Trip answered.

“We’ll have to move more quickly.” Jemma answered, certain they could do it if they just moved faster. Fitz however had other ideas, suggesting that they should split up. Both she and Trip protested, but Fitz seemingly wanted to prove himself, once again taking her concern for him as a slight on his capability. She felt uneasy, watching him disappear into the city by himself, when Mack was still lurking somewhere and Hydra mere minutes away from joining them, but he was right they needed to cover more ground and arguing with him would only delay them further.

She and Trip made it back to the garrison and she spent an anxious two minutes and 13 seconds waiting for Fitz, but he returned, a little out of breath, but otherwise okay. “Ten minutes to spare!” She exclaimed, trying to show him how proud she was of him.

“Yeah. I’d be much more excited if Mack wasn’t still down there.” Fitz answered.

“I can’t think about it. It’s too sad.” Jemma answered. Mack had been such a good friend to Fitz while she was away, and he didn’t deserve the fate that awaited him. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was still conscious, aware but not in control. There wasn’t time to dwell on it though (there never was working for S.H.I.E.L.D.), as May called and announced that Skye and Coulson had gone down into the city after Raina who had the obelisk.

“Damn.” Trip said, more resigned than frustrated. Then he grabbed the torch and let himself back down the hole and into the city below, ignoring their pleas to stop.

“What do we do?” She asked him.

“I don’t know…” Fitz answered. He pulled out his phone and called May back. “Trip’s gone down to stop the charges from det- detonating, but there’s less than, less than ten minutes on the clock, should we go down and help?” Fitz asked, his voice a little shaky.

“No, stay put, there are already far too many members of our team in that damn city. We just have to trust them to do their jobs.” May said firmly. “Sit tight, I’ll call you if anyone comes up my end, you do the same.” And then she hung up. Leaving them to wait.

“It’ll umm… it’ll be okay.” Fitz said as he unzipped his hazmat.

“Option number one, Trip doesn’t stop the explosives, and half our team is buried under the rubble. Option two, Trip succeeds but Raina activates the obelisk and our team suffers whatever disaster that entails. And option three, Trip stops the explosives and Skye and Coulson manage to stop Raina. I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel particularly hopeful about the third option right now.” She rambled.

“Jemma stop.” He said holding her by the arms, just above the end of her sleaves. “We have to trust our team, and, and worrying about it isn’t going to help them, is it? So let’s do what we can, which is pack up so we can, uh, so we can get the hell out of here as soon as Trip comes back.”

“Right.” She didn’t feel his optimism, but she knew he was right, they had to do something and packing up was a sensible option.

“I can still feel you worrying Jemma.” Fitz sighed as he packed up the D.W.A.R.F.’s he had retrieved from the city.

“Sorry.” She mumbled, he no doubt was anxious too, he just seemed to have a better hold on his emotions, or at least she still couldn’t feel any of them being projecting onto her.

He shook his head. “It’s okay, I’m worried too.” He confessed. Packing up didn’t take long and soon they found themselves sitting by the edge of the hole, waiting.

She didn’t know what more to say to him, so much was unsaid between the two of them and now was hardly the time to try to air it. But nor was it the time for small talk.

Fitz didn’t seem to have the same reservations. “It’s uhh, it’s okay if you uhh… I mean, just because of earlier… I don’t expect anything.” He said nervously. “Us being, err… us being friends again, that’s important to me.” He continued when she said nothing.

“It’s important to me too. But if you don’t mind… I don’t think I can have this conversation right now, there’s just too much going on.” She was barely holding it together, and that was a conversation she wanted to have when her mind was clearer.

“Yeah, yeah… I know, I just… if that was something you were worrying about then I thought… maybe… well you don’t have to worry about it.” He said and as she turned to look at him he chewed the inside of his cheek and bottom lip.

“Thank you…” They fell back into silence, Jemma replaying their conversation. He was giving her an out. But she didn’t think she wanted it. Kissing him had felt right. It had been wonderful actually and she couldn’t help but resent that they had been interrupted. She played the moment over and over again in her head, memorising every detail of his lips, his jaw, his hair. Really, they should have tried it years ago, what idiots they had been.

 Fitz cleared his throat, interrupting her thoughts. “Uh, Jemma… I can hear you…” He said awkwardly.

Jemma swore under her breath. “I’m so sorry. That was… I… Sorry.” She winced. Really it was unfair to have her brain betray her while she was thinking things through. They seemed to have regressed back to having little to no control over sharing their thoughts when they weren’t touching, which was frustrating after all the work they had put into developing their skills. But most of all it was just rather embarrassing.

She didn’t have the chance to find out exactly what he had heard or if he could still hear her though, as the ground shook beneath them. She checked her watch in confusion, sure that the ten minutes until detonation had already passed. Sure enough, they had, this was something else, was it from the obelisk? “It’s not the charges Fitz!” She shouted over the rumble as they pulled themselves back form the edge of the hole.

“An earthquake?” Fitz asked before lurching forward from the force of the quakes. She reached out, grabbing his shirt and pulled him back, away from the edge of the hole. He coughed and rubbed his throat, sore from the force of his shirt pulling against his neck when she had pulled him back. But he was next to her, rather than plummeting to his death and a sore throat was a small price to pay. “Thank you.” He thought to her, his hand clinging to her wrist.

His mind was full of panic and confusion, similar to her own. The ground roared again and they both fell backwards. The ceiling above them was crumbling, covering them in dust and small rocks. Fitz pulled her into his side, holding her tight. “We, have to get out of here before the ceiling caves in on us.” The ground still shook violently beneath them and the ceiling was dropping larger and larger stones and rocks onto the floor around them.

As quickly as they could, they crawled to the edge of the garrison, pressing themselves against the wall. There was no way they could climb the ladder up to the sentry tower, not with the relentless quakes. They were stuck.

They clung to each other and waited for the earthquake to stop, as the garrison fell apart around them. Their clothing protected them from sharing thoughts for the most part, but every so often the ground would shift, and their skin would brush, linking their minds together for a moment, just long enough for Jemma to feel his fear and desire to protect her.

When the earthquake finally subsided, they were covered in dust and small stones. “Are you okay?” She asked, he had held his arms above both of their heads after a large stone had fallen right in front of their faces, skimming her cheek.

“M’fine.” He said, brushing dust out of his hair.

“Show me your arms.” It was more of an order than a question, but there was no way his arms were undamaged, there legs had been pelted with falling rocks, but they both had jeans, so other than bruises they should be alright. His arms though, were only protected by his thin shirt.

Reluctantly he held his arms in front of her and she pulled up his sleeves, her hands brushing against his bare skin, bringing up goosebumps on his arms and letting her hear his thoughts. He was in pain but didn’t want her to fuss. His arms were covered in scratches and cuts, some shallow but others were bleeding, and his skin was mottled with red marks that would soon turn into deep bruises.

“I’m fine, stop worrying, we need to find our team.”  He thought to her as she ran her fingers around the deepest cut.

“Let me at least clean and dress the worst of them.” She said, already pulling out her first aid kit from her rucksack. He didn’t look happy about it, but he didn’t complain. As she cleaned and dressed his wounds, she was very aware that it was the longest time they had spent touching in a long time, the longest their minds had been connected without any barriers since, well she couldn’t remember when.

Fitz was very aware of the fact too, and both of their minds drifted back to their all to brief kiss earlier. Their proximity, the intimacy of tending his wounds, combined with the fact that they were both very aware of the other’s thoughts brought a new kind of tension between them.

“All done.” She said as she pulled her hands away from his arms. Her breathing had grown shallow while she had been cleaning and dressing his wounds and she took an unconscious deep breath the second they parted.

“Right. We should, we should call May, see if she’s okay or heard from anyone.” She said, trying to get control of her breathing. How had she gone from being so confused about her feelings, to feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush, in the space of a day?

May told them to take all their equipment back to the Bus and then head to the theatre where May, Bobbi and Hunter were. They would begin the search in the underground city and Jemma and Fitz could join them if they hadn’t found them by the time they arrived.

“They’ll be okay, right?” Fitz asked as they made their way back to the car. The damage from the earthquake was unsettling, buildings had crumbled, and people were huddled up together, slowly venturing out now that it seemed to be over. Although aftershocks were sure to be on their way and they would bring further damage. Jemma was sure he was thinking much the same as her, that if the destruction was this bad up here, what had it done to the underground city?

“They have to be.” She couldn’t let herself entertain anything else. Half their team was underground, they had to be okay. But the more they walked through the town, the more worried she grew. They had no way of knowing where the epicentre was until they got to the bus and no way of knowing where their friends were.

When they got to the Bus, Fitz set about finding every reading he could get his hands on, every piece of data that would help them understand what had happened. “Jemma?” He called from upstairs in the command centre. She stowed away the last crate and rushed up the stairs to meet him. He pointed to the map of the city which had been overlayed onto the map of San Juan. “The epicentre… it was right in the chamber…” The chamber where Coulson and Skye had been headed towards… “We have to get to the theatre and help May with the search.”

Jemma’s hope was dwindling, this did not look good. “Fitz?” She grabbed his arm as he walked past her. Tears were building behind her eyes, and she wasn’t sure she could face what awaited them.

“We don’t know anything yet, we have to go. They need our help.” Fitz said slowly, his words comforting himself as much as her. He hesitated for a moment before pulling her into a hug and tucking his chin on top of her head. “We’ve got each other, no matter what, we’ve got each other, yeah?”

“Yeah.” She nodded her head and buried her head into his shoulder, breathing him in. Underneath all the dust, he still smelled like Fitz. They still had so much to talk about, but they were united in wanting to fix what was broken between them and knowing that gave her the strength to face what was to come. “Let’s go rescue our team.”

Chapter Text

They arrived to an empty theatre, Hydra had been cleared out and their entire team was down in the city. They had no way to communicate with the team, what with electronics not working down in the city, so Jemma announced their arrival with a loud shout. “May? We’re here!”

“Simmons get down here, we need medical!” Hunter’s shout echoed up the tunnel.

The once open pathways through the underground city were now covered by fallen stones, and large cracks zigged and zagged across the floor. They followed the voices of their team and made their way carefully through the city until they found them.

The team were gathered around a large stone cylinder, the cylinder was broken into panels with one set far enough back for a person to slide through and into the cylinder. In a darkened corner Bobbi sat with Mack, who seemed to be both alive and himself. A wave of relief flowed off of Fitz and she gave him a small smile before running over to Mack to check him over.

“No, in here.” Coulson’s voice called, but from where, she wasn’t sure. May pointed to the gap in the panels of the cylinder and Jemma slid through. Inside there were even more cracks and rocks, Coulson sat holding an unconscious Skye, Jemma inhaled sharply but felt some relief when she couldn’t see any obvious injuries.

Her mind cast her back to the last time she had found Skye, unconscious and in Coulson’s arms. She took in a shaky breath, determined to do her best for Skye and not be seized by panic. 

She felt a wash of courage and support from Fitz, who seemed to have heard her mind being taken back to the moment they both had entered the basement to find Skye bloody and half dead. Skye’s survival had been in her hands then and it was once again in her hands today. A mixture of her own resolve and Fitz’s calming presence in her mind, gave her the piece of mind to concentrate on the situation in front of her and not dwell the helplessness she had felt when Skye had been shot.

She set her first aid kit down and examined Skye.  She had a few small scratches and bruises from the falling rocks but otherwise seemed unharmed. Jemma felt over her head to check for bumps or lesions but again, Skye seemed okay. Surrounding them were hundreds of stone fragments, but the larger ones were mostly in heaps around the temple room and seemed too far away to be responsible for knocking her unconscious. 

“I can’t see any obvious injuries, did you find her like this? Were there any large rocks that could have kno-” Her voice fell away as she looked around to examine the room better. Behind her was a pile of rocks that looked a little different, they were clumped together and a familiar grey colour that she couldn’t quite place, she knelt in front of them and peered closer.

“What are these?” One fragment of rock looked oddly similar to a human hand, she reached forward to pick it up and hold it closer to the light, when something else caught her eye. A face, or rather part of a stone face, lay in the pile of rocks. A small shriek escaped her lips when she realised what she was looking at.

“Jemma?” Fitz called out.

“It… it’s Trip…” She hiccupped.

“What?” Coulson asked from behind her.

“The obelisk… it, it turned him to stone.” She said with a loud sob.

No one said anything for a moment. “Jemma, we can’t help him now, but Skye still needs our help.” May said from the gap in the stone panels, with an impossible calmness to her voice. “Is Skye safe to transport?”

“I… I think so…” The room burst into motion, May and Coulson manoeuvring Skye out of the cylinder. She could hear Coulson giving Hunter and Bobbi orders and the sound of their steps soften as they headed back to the shaft to get Skye up into the theatre, but Jemma was frozen to the spot, unable to take her eyes off of Trip.

‘Agent Triplett is your responsibility.’ Coulson’s words echoed in her head. He had only been there today because she had cleared him for duty after his gun shot injury from his previous mission. And really, any good doctor would have kept him back at the base, he shouldn’t have been there at all. Shouldn’t have been in stone fragments in front of her.

“Jemma…” Fitz said quietly from behind her. His steps grew closer and his breath hitched when he saw Trip. “Jemma, we have to go, Skye and Mack need you. We’ll come back for Trip, but they need our help.” She knew Fitz was right but she couldn’t will her legs to move. He moved and crouched in front of her, cutting off her view of Trip.

She took a deep breath, hoping it would steady her, but all it did was dislodge the tears at the edge of her eyes. Fitz’s eyes were soft and his expression tender as he leant his forehead to press gently against hers.

“This is not your fault. Don’t blame yourself Jemma.” Slowly he lifted his hands and wiped her tears away. She could feel his resolve to make sure she didn’t blame herself, but he was wrong, this was her faut and she could not, would not, let herself forget that. She could feel his sadness also. His grief and guilt, guilt for having let Trip go down into the city again and at having been so hard on Trip when he first arrived, having wasted the opportunity to make a good friend.  She swallowed hard and took in a shaky breath.

“We have a job to do, we mourn later, right?” Her voice wobbled but she knew that she would be letting her team down if she let herself fall apart now. Fitz nodded and together they headed out of the cylinder and followed the rest of their team.

Even with all the resources on the Bus Jemma couldn’t find anything wrong with Skye, she guessed that the obelisk was responsible, but she had no idea how. Mack too was physically fine, which was truly miraculous given the beating his body had taken during his time under the control of the city. Emotionally, however, Mack was far from okay, but he refused to talk.

Coulson was confident that the medical team at the Playground could manage any further medical evaluations the two needed and so asked her to stay back with a team of agents, to finish the job they had come here to do.

“I can stay too, if you want?” Fitz asked as they carried the equipment she’d need back into the Quinjet. It seemed that half their time in Puerto Rico had been spent carrying equipment from one place to another.

“No, it’s okay, you need to work on getting the data from Skye’s watch anyway.” If Fitz stayed, she would find it harder to compartmentalise, she needed to focus on assessing the city and blowing it to kingdom come.

“Right…”

“Fitz? Are you coming?” Coulson called from the Bus.

“Yeah!” He called back and left without saying goodbye. Had she upset him, had he wanted her to ask him to stay? Did he not understand that she had work to do? Work that she needed to do without letting emotions cloud her judgement.

The team coming to help her wouldn’t arrive until the following day so she had the rest of the evening to herself. Hours and hours to replay the moment Fitz left the Quinjet and their conversation, trying to decode his body language, figure out what was going on in his head. What it was she had done to cause him to leave like that. And when she managed to get Fitz out of her brain, she’d be plagued by the image of Trip in pieces.

Sleep was impossible to find that night. How could she sleep after the day they had had? How could she sleep when part of her job tomorrow would be to find as many fragments as possible of Trip and bring them back to the base? How could she sleep when all she wanted was to be held by the man who hadn’t even graced her with a goodbye?

The day passed in a blur of emotion and exhaustion. In another time, another context, she would have found the city endlessly fascinating, but after yesterday, she didn’t have anything left in her, no room in her heart or mind for scientific pursuit. She simply had to get the job done, so she could get back home and bring what was left of Trip home too.

Relying on autopilot, she managed to give the right orders to the right people at the right time, she was getting through the day as best as she could have hoped for. Their work was nearly done, and they were marking the exact positions to place the charges when Jemma saw a figure, covered in thorns and hunched over the bodies of two agents she had been speaking to just moments earlier.

She instinctively drew her gun and without remorse pulled the trigger. It was Raina. Raina who was responsible for so much grief and had caused so much trouble. She would not be missed. Some of her bullets hit their target but Raina kept moving, getting onto the lift and out before anyone else could arrive to stop her. Yet another costly failure to add to her growing list.

While most of her team stayed in Puerto Rico to hunt down Raina, she headed back to HQ armed with blood and tissue samples of Raina to study. Yet another urgent job. Delaying the moment she could let herself process what had happened the day before. Once back at the Playground she made her way straight to the lab, she had expected to see Fitz there, but he was nowhere to be found. “Have you seen Fitz?” She asked a lab tech.

“I believe he’s in the garage with agent Mackenzie.” The lab tech answered. That was odd, but she supposed he had all the equipment he’d need down there and perhaps he wanted to keep Mack company after his traumatic experience. Or perhaps he was just avoiding her…

When an email came through, rather than him in person, asking for her input on the data he had extracted from the watch, she became convinced that he was indeed avoiding her. She didn’t have time to look at the data though as she was preoccupied by her findings from Raina’s blood and tissue samples.

It was insane, her DNA was as bizarre as her physical transformation. She had new macromolecules, which Simmons knew was humanly impossible, but here it was in front of her. This must have been what accounted for her physical change, it was as if millions of years of evolution had taken place in mere moments inside of Raina’s body. There was no human explanation for it. And quite frankly it terrified her.

Raina had been capable of slicing through hazmat suits and human flesh without a blade, she had become a living weapon, and who knew what else had happened to her. Her DNA was too different for the thorns to be the only change she had experienced but Jemma couldn’t determine what the extra macromolecules would have done.

If this got out into the general population, if it was contagious or Hydra were able to replicate what had happened, well she didn’t want to even consider it. But she had to, that was her job and burying her head in the sand wouldn’t protect anybody. Least of all her team.

And what about Skye? She had been exposed to the same thing, had her DNA been affected? Obviously physically Skye seemed to be unharmed, but she still needed to check her DNA, make sure nothing sinister lay hidden within. But Jemma was hopeful, Skye seemed fine, perhaps something in the GH-325 had given her immunity? So she went to check on Skye, cautiously optimistic about her friends fate.

She hadn’t meant to get so emotional when talking to Skye, but the more she spoke about Raina, her fears of an epidemic, her grief for Trip and her own mistakes, the more distressed she found herself getting.  Afterall, she was the resident biochemist, she should have known better, should have protected her team. But her curiosity had led to Trip’s death and an alien gas potentially unleashing an epidemic.

But getting upset in front of Skye, who was locked up in quarantine and had witnessed Trip’s death, wasn’t right. Skye had enough going on without her unloading onto her too, so she dug deep and pulled herself together. She needed to get started on Skye’s DNA analysis anyway and that would require her full attention.

Once the analysis was set up, she left the computer to do its part and went to get a cup of tea, where she bumped into Mack. He seemed to be in a better mood than before, which was good to see. They chatted over their drinks and Jemma hoped it was the sign of a new start, that he was letting go of the resentments he had held from whatever it was Fitz had told him about her.

“So… err, is Fitz with you? In the garage today, I mean?” She asked when there was a lull in the conversation. She couldn’t help herself from asking. So much was happening so fast, and they needed to find time to talk.  And his lack of a goodbye previously and now no greeting upon her return from Puerto Rico had her rather worried.

“Yeah…” Mack said with a raised eyebrow. “You two not talking again?”

“Honestly? I have no idea.”  She sighed. Just as things seemed to be getting back on track, she seemed to have miss-stepped again.

“Things seemed to be going better in San Juan.”  Mack said with a knowing smile.

“Yes, well… I seem to have messed up again, he hasn’t been by since I got back.” She said awkwardly.

“You haven’t been down to see him either though.” Mack pointed out. He had a point, they were both busy with work, perhaps she was over analysing it. Or perhaps Mack was just defending his friend…

“I feel like we just need a solid week of total calm where we can just deal with… everything. There’s so much going on right now, I feel like there’s barely any time to breath, let alone start to work through everything that’s gone wrong between us.” She wasn’t sure why she was telling him this, he was Fitz’s friend, not hers. But for some reason she couldn’t help herself from oversharing.

“You and me both…” He huffed. “This alien crap is really getting to me, I owe everyone an apology for my outburst earlier. You’re lucky you missed it, I was not my best self.” He murmured with open honesty.

“You being here, in front of me, is a miracle in itself, so I think everyone can excuse a little outburst whilst you recover.” As she spoke Coulson and May appeared in the corridor before them.

“Ah, I need to give Coulson the schematics backs so it looks like here’s my chance to make amends.” Schematics in hand, he headed towards Coulson and May, Jemma followed him, she wanted to raise her concerns over the manhunt for Raina and with Coulson so busy, now seemed like as good an opportunity as any.

She knew her suggestion wouldn’t go down well, but it needed to be said. Raina was dangerous and couldn’t be allowed to spread whatever it was that had affected her. She said as much to May and Coulson, that if they had to put Raina down rather than capture her, then really it wasn’t the worst thing. Might even be the best option. Even if it earned her odd looks from her team, she knew she needed to start thinking differently if she was to protect them from any more tragedies.

Afterwards, motivated by her conversation with Mack she headed to the garage to find Fitz. But he wasn’t there. In fact, he wasn’t anywhere on the Bus. Disheartened by his disappearance she decided to head back to the lab and see if the computer was done running the DNA analysis.

She had just stepped off the Bus when a wash of anxiety rushed over her. Fitz. Something was upsetting him. But what it was, and whether he wanted her help, were two rather large unknowns. The feeling of anxiety and dread grew but it was hard to tell what belonged to Fitz and what belonged to her.

She decided she would look out for him on her way back to the lab but wouldn’t go out of her way to find him as he did seem to be hiding from her. As she approached the lab, Fitz rushed out holding a tablet. “Is everything okay?” She asked, reaching an arm out to stop him as he skidded out through the doors. The anxiety cascading out of him raged, spewing out like a ferocious waterfall.

“I…ugh. Everything’s fine.” He was lying, his emotions pouring out of him gave him away before he had a chance to reign them in.

“Right… so we’re back to you avoiding me and now, what, we’re adding lying in just to mix things up?” She said, letting her frustration out.

“N-no, no… I ugh… it’s Skye’s blood work.” He said reluctantly and turned the tablet around to show her.

It didn’t take more than a second to see what she had feared most. Skye’s DNA was drastically different. Skye was infected. She took in a shaky breath. “Right, so we umm… we should call Coulson, and start running further tests, figure out if this is contagious and what it has actually done to her.” She kept rattling on with her impromptu plan to help Skye when it dawned on her. “Where were you going with the tablet?”

“I don’t know…” He murmured, yet another lie. “Let’s just, let’s just talk to Skye first, yeah?”

“What’s going on Fitz?” Jemma asked, unsure exactly what she had walked in on.

“I just… Skye is our friend, so let’s not jump to conclusions, she doesn’t need to be put down.”

“What?”

“Mack told me what you said.” He said with an accusing tone. “Skye’s not some, some, some kind of con-contagion.”

“Of course she’s not.” How could he think she would want to treat Skye the same as Raina? Raina had always been bad news, she had worked for Hydra and she was the one who had taken the obelisk down to the temple in the first place, she had started this. But Skye, she was a victim. And she would exhaust all her options to fix Skye, saving her from what had happened to Raina. “Is that what you think of me? That I’m some kind of heartless monster?” Hurt didn’t begin to cover what she felt, and she couldn’t stop it from pouring out of her.

“No, no, I just, what-” Fitz’s words died on his tongue as the room began to shake. “Skye?” He called out and ran back towards her.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” Skye called out in distress, seemingly having been able to hear their not so quiet argument. As Skye calmed down so did the earthquake, causing Jemma to come to a worrying conclusion.

“Was… was that you?”

“I don’t know how to control it…”

“We have to get May and Coulson.” Jemma said, feeling completely out of her depth. 

-x-

Once Coulson got back from visiting Trip’s mother, it was decided Skye would go to a S.H.I.E.L.D. safehouse until they could better understand her powers and she could better control them. No one was happy about it, but Jemma had to agree that it seemed safest for everyone.

Coulson’s second idea was more surprising. “Fitzsimmons, I want you two to go with her, there is a secondary safehouse at that location. I want you working on tech and biochem solutions for Skye. You’ll be close enough to monitor her and work without distraction but it’s imperative you remain separate from Skye until we know there is no further danger of contagion.”

“But sir-” Fitz started.

“Pack your bags, and Bobbi, pack one for Skye too. You’re dismissed.” Coulson finished and left the room to arrange Skye’s transfer to the Bus’s quarantine. Fitz’s quashed protest had not gone unnoticed by Jemma, and she felt uneasy at the idea of him being forced to spend time with her when he clearly didn’t want to. Whatever might have been between them was clearly over, Fitz had changed his mind.

She wondered if their kiss hadn’t lived up to his expectations or whether he realised he hadn’t forgiven her for leaving. Or whether it was something else entirely. Whatever was going on, one thing was for certain, they were once again no longer on the same page, if they ever had been, and now they were being sent to a safehouse where they would be forced to work together, it was sure to be unbearable.

She made the most of the spacious Bus and kept herself to herself on the journey to the safehouse. In theory she was looking at the data they had collected from Skye, trying to make sense of her new powers, but in actuality, she was trying to figure out what had gone so wrong between her and Fitz. Again. Perhaps the whole soulmate business was nonsense, how could they spend so much time at odds with one another if they were soulmates?

When they arrived, Coulson settled her and Fitz into their building first. The exterior showed a quaint log cabin, reminiscent of the one she had stayed in in New Hampshire, the interior however revealed a fully equipped laboratory with what could best be described as a studio apartment attached. The kitchen, bed and living space were all in one small room, there was a door off to the side which she presumed held the bathroom, but other than that, everything was in that one room.

“Sorry about the living space. You’ll have to negotiate sleeping arrangements, but the sofa should be fine to sleep on. There is a direct line to Skye’s cabin and another to the base. There’s no Wi-Fi but there is a library of hard drives that have a comprehensive collection of journals and research stored on them, any further research you need access to will need to be requested and then brought to you on a hard drive, but that should be reserved for emergencies. Like I said, you should already have everything you need. Anyway, I’ll leave you two to settle in.” And then Coulson was gone.

Jemma examined the double bed, it was big enough for them to share comfortably, and they had shared beds in the past, but Fitz hadn’t been avoiding her in the past. “I can sleep on the sofa, if you’d like?” She offered.

“Oh, no that’s fine, I’ll take the sofa, you can have the bed.” Fitz mumbled.

“If you’re sure.” Jemma said, uncertainly. They unpacked their bags in silence, divvying up the storage space between them. Once they were done Fitz said he wanted a shower, so Jemma went to have a proper look around the lab and have a flick through the file that accompanied the hard drives, detailing what was stored on each drive.

“I’m uh, I’m done in the bathroom, if you wanted a shower or to get ready for bed?” Fitz said awkwardly from the doorway to the living space. His hair was still wet and he was in his pyjamas, it almost felt very domestic, reminiscent of their time at Sci-Ops. Aside from the palpable tension between them.

“Have I done something to upset you since Puerto Rico?” She asked, determined to get the awkwardness over and done with, she needed to know what she had done.

“I’m just trying to give you space.”

“I didn’t ask for space.” She countered, unsure what had given him the impression she wanted that.

“You didn’t want me to stay with you in San… in San Juan.” Hurt and a little bit of bitterness flowed off of him.

“Because I had a job to do, not because I didn’t want you around.” Fitz’s brow wrinkled. “If you had been there, I wouldn’t have been able to focus and get on with my work.”

“I thought… I thought you were avoiding talking, like we’d said we would.” Fitz said, looking like he was starting to feel rather foolish.

“I assure you, that had nothing to do with it. I would still very much like that talk, if you do too?” Jemma asked, growing more and more anxious.

“You… err… you’ve had enough time to think? Before you said you were confused…” Fitz said with nervous shallow breaths. She nodded her head, she had had more than enough time to turn things over in her brain and more than anything she just wanted to know what was going on in his. “Right.” He said with a small nervous nod. “We ummm, would you like to sit on the sofa? To err… to, to talk?”

“Okay.” She said, getting up and following him through to the living area. Anxiously they both sat down, well aware of the importance of the conversation they were about to have. The anxiety coming off them both was creating a maelstrom, a tremendous mix of nerves and hope.

This would be a defining moment for them both, and neither of them wanted to get it wrong. They sat in an awkward silence, overwhelmed by the tangle of their emotions. “So did you want to go first?” Jemma asked when she could tolerate the silence no longer.

Chapter Text

"So did you want to go first?”

“No, no, you can go first.” Fitz answered, seemingly as uncertain as her about how to actually start the conversation.

For someone who exceled at preparation she was going into this rather unprepared, but there was one thing she knew she needed to do. Her hands were nervously fidgeting on her lap and try as she might, she couldn’t look him in the eye.

“I umm, first I have something to show you.” She reached over to her backpack, she hadn’t really known why she’d brought them, but as she’d pack her things in her bunk they had called out to her from her bedside draw. Out of her bag she pulled out the pile of letters and pictures from New Hampshire and her diary from her time at Hydra. “You, umm you can read through that and I’ll… I’ll go shower…” She said as she passed him the papers and diary.

It felt like handing him a piece of her soul and she wasn’t sure she could bare being in the same room as him while he read them. She had been in a bad place when she had written them, and she was sure her writings would reflect that. But more than anything she just wanted him to understand why she had left. That it was to help him. That it had broken her heart. And that she hadn’t stopped thinking about him. Once he understood that, hopefully they could talk about where to go next.

With a deep breath she left him with his reading and picked up her washbag along with her towels and nightclothes. As she showered, she could intermittently hear Fitz as he read her letters, their telepathic communication as uncontrollable as ever due to both their heightened emotions.

“‘It’s beautiful here, I wish you could see it. Maybe one day we can come here together, for a holiday or something?’”

…

“‘I miss you so much. I hope you’re faring better than I am. I knew this would be hard, but I didn’t know it would be this hard. But it will be worth it. When I come back and you’re speaking better again and have got your independence back, it will be worth it. I know this is drastic, I did try getting you to talk more, I really did try everything I could think of.’”

…

“‘Assuming you don’t hate me that is… you won’t hate me right? You know I left to help you? Coul He will make sure of that. And if the separation isn’t working then I think a month is a good '”

She had been so scared of writing details that would identify her as an active S.H.I.E.L.D agent, she had had to sensor herself so much.

“‘Fitz, today I went to the local food store. I hadn’t realised how lonely I was until I got there. The couple who ran the store were so friendly, it was a shame I couldn’t stay and talk. It’s getting really lonely here. I got so used to the buzz of S.H.I.E.L.D., all the people, never a minute to yourself, and now all I have is time to myself. I miss you, hearing you, seeing you. I hope you’re less lonely than I am.’”

 …

“’The lake outside is beautiful though. I’ve started cataloguing all the local flora and fauna. I saw a moose with its calf across the pond yesterday, that was very exciting. Did you know in the mid-1800s moose were nearly extinct in New Hampshire? There are about 3,500 now though, unfortunately moose and cars don’t mix very well so they aren’t overly popular around here apparently. Not that I’ve been able to ask anyone, but I’ve been reading a lot online.’”

…

“‘I bought this monkey mug for you. Well for me really, to be reminded of you, but still.’”

…

“‘I thought you might like this, so I took a picture for you.’”

…

“‘I want to go home, it’s been I’m not sure if I can do this. I keep telling myself this is for the best, for both of us. But I’m not so sure.’”

…

“‘I went for a run today. You’d like it here, fresh air and forests and mountains. Terrible mobile reception though. You’d love all the wildlife, I saw a herd of deer this morning, with all their fawns bouncing about. I wish I had even a fraction of their joy right now. It’s okay though. I’ll be okay and so will you.’”

…

“‘I saw this and thought of you.’”

…

“‘I wish I could do some work, I’m bored and lonely. I hope you’re making good progress though. I wish I could still be there to see it.’”

 …

“‘Did you ever think it was weird how we only hung out with each other before the Bus? Didn’t seem weird at the time, but maybe this is healthy, people probably should have more than one close friend…’”

He was still making his way through her letters and photos when she came out of the shower. He had a strained look on his face and she could no longer hear him or feel any of his emotions, making it difficult to decipher what he was thinking. “Why’d you write them?” He asked when he heard her open the door.

“I don’t know, it felt like we were still connected in some way… I had a lot of thoughts and no one to share them with. I still couldn’t say everything, in case Hydra got their hands on them. But it helped.” She said as she joined him on the sofa again.

“I thought you thought I was useless.” He said, the sadness of believing that for months written all over his face.

“I know, but that was never the case. I know me leaving hurt you, but no one ever told me you were struggling, if I’d known I would have come back.” She wanted to reach out, hold his hand, prove to him she was telling the truth. But she wasn’t sure if she should, and if he couldn’t believe her without hearing her thoughts then what hope did they have?

“You thought I’d just be fine without you?” He asked with a slight scoff.

“No. But I thought you’d be better off than when I was there.”

“You sure it wasn’t an excuse? What you told yourself, so you didn’t feel guilty?”

“I felt plenty guilty.” She answered bitterly, trying not to get frustrated, they needed to talk about this, no matter how much it hurt.

“I know…” He said, anger draining out of him. Her letters had made her guilt perfectly clear. “I just… I get that no one told you, that you thought or hoped it would be good for me, but did you really think I’d be okay with you just leaving like that?” He asked with a worried frown, kneading his bad hand with his good one.

“I didn’t know what else to do… I did try talking to you about it. But that didn’t go well... When I asked to go away for a bit, I didn’t know it would be for months, or to go undercover. And I didn’t know if I should accept it, and then you came and found me because you knew I was worried and that didn’t go well. I don’t know, it just felt like the right call at the time. It was hard but if it was hard then I thought that meant it was the right choice.” Jemma rambled on, unsure how to make him understand that she hadn’t meant to hurt him. “I’m sorry.”

Fitz considered her apology for a moment. “You’re ap-ap-apologising and you don’t even know what for. You don’t, you don’t know what it was like for me during those months you were away.”

“Then tell me.” She said softly.

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Slowly he moved his hand from his lap to hover over hers. “Can I, err, can I show you?” He asked.

They hadn’t shared memories in a long time, it had been something they had taught themselves to do but had rarely used. It was tiring, overwhelming and required a lot of concentration. And often it would bring on a migraine. But Jemma nodded her head, Fitz clearly thought he would have more success by showing her than telling her. She turned her hand open so that her palm faced upwards, ready for his contact, and waited whilst he readied himself.

With a deep, shaky breath Fitz brought his hand down to meet hers and Jemma’s mind was flooded with Fitz’s memories.

He was in his bunk, her unopened letter in hand. He already knew she had gone, no one had said as much, but he knew. His bad hand trembled as he opened the letter.

Dear Fitz,

I’m sorry to have to say goodbye via letter, I had wanted to do this in person. I know me leaving is going to be hard, we’ve spent our entire adult lives side by side, but that’s why this is important. We need to be individuals. You need to focus on your recovery and discovering who you are now. And then, when I return, we can be the best versions of ourselves. I know you don’t want me to go, but I really do believe this is going to help you. Please don’t let yourself grow isolated. New people are joining the base every day and Skye is always here for you.

Just know I’m always thinking about you. Goodbye.

Love Jemma x

He read it over and over, trying to understand what had chased her away, things had been going so well. They had been working together in the lab again. Sure, he wasn’t talking much but he didn’t need to, she was basically the only person he wanted to communicate with anyway, so what did it matter? ‘We need to be individuals’… She could have just said she didn’t feel the same way as him, he was a grown man, he could take it. He’d never let himself hope for reciprocated feelings anyway.

She didn’t need to run away. Unless perhaps… maybe she was repulsed by his feelings, disgusted with him, maybe she thought he’d been thinking inappropriate thoughts about her for their entire friendship? Maybe she had just waited until he was well enough so she could leave without guilt? Did she think he had been leering at her? Had ulterior motives for every touch, every hug? It hadn’t been like that, he hadn’t meant to fall in love with her. In fact, he’d tried really hard not to.

Every time his brain started on an inappropriate path, anything other than strictly platonic, he did his best to nip it in the bud. He’d distanced himself from her as best he could, tried to give himself time to get over his crush. But it wasn’t a crush and he couldn’t get over her, no matter how hard he’d tried.

Well maybe now he would be able to. Now he knew she didn’t only not return his feelings, but was so upset about them she didn’t want to be near him. That she thought he was so broken so useless and incapable that she hadn’t even wanted to talk to him about it and had just left. She had left and all he had was a half-hearted note.

She didn’t want him relying on her, like they had always done before. They had relied on each other so much, their entire friendship, but Jemma had made it clear she no longer wanted that, that not only were his feelings unwelcome, but his friendship too. That he was absolutely useless to her, worthless.

…

Everyone in the lab was avoiding him. And really he had given them good reason to. He couldn’t communicate with them, he’d just get angry and shout incoherently at them, knock things onto the floor and just in general be unbearable. He didn’t mean to be so awful, but he just got so frustrated.

All his life he’d had trouble being understood, up until he set foot in a lab, then suddenly he was surrounded by people who finally got him. And then he’d met Jemma. Communication had always been so easy for them, sure working out their telepathic powers had been hard work, but enjoyable work, work that just furthered their friendship.

And now he had no one. The rest of the team were too busy, and when they did visit, they had no idea what to say or what to do. Which just made him long for solitude again. Being lonely was better than being angry and upsetting everyone around him. At least only he was affected by his loneliness, it didn’t ruin everyone else’s day too.

…

Jemma was back. Jemma who would support him and listen to him and help him. Jemma who put her hand on his shoulder when he needed comfort. Jemma who helped him with his speech, gave him the words when he needed them and patiently waited for him to find them when she knew he could. Amazing, beautiful Jemma who would stand by him no matter what.

…

Jemma wasn’t back. Not really. He was just going mad. Jemma still couldn’t stand him. Didn’t want anything to do with him. Because he was broken and useless and couldn’t help the team. Couldn’t figure out cloaking. Couldn’t talk without stammering and stuttering. Couldn’t find the words he’d known and used his whole life.

Jemma didn’t want to be with useless Fitz and his unwanted, unreciprocated, undying love for her. So instead, his crazy brain had made a new Jemma, a Jemma who wanted him, would help and support him. And really, how pathetic was that? No wonder the real Jemma wanted nothing to do with him.

…

He’d got in an argument with Jemma today. She was smothering him. And anyway, he didn’t deserve her support, he was broken and more than a little crazy.

…

He was lonely, he wanted Jemma. The real Jemma. He wanted to know how she was, if she was okay, if she was happy… But she didn’t want him to know those things. So he was left with his facsimile. And she didn’t have any real thoughts for him to know, for her to share with him. Never again would he know the intimacy of sharing his thoughts, unfiltered, with the person he loved.

…

‘And then, when I return, we can be the best versions of ourselves.’ Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m far from the best version of myself.

Each memory brought more tears to her eyes. Fitz pulled his hand away from her. “I didn’t share that to guilt you or anything. I just thought you deserved to know what it was really like. Rightly or wrongly, that’s what I thought.” Fitz said, barely above a whisper. His eyes were dark and sad, the pain was still fresh and remembering it all in such detail had hurt him.

“If I had known, I’d have been back in a heartbeat.” She was angry, angry that the team hadn’t helped him like she had assumed they would, that Coulson hadn’t pulled her back before she had started to work for Hydra. That he hadn’t told her how much Fitz had suffered without her. He had started hallucinating for crying out loud, how could no one have done anything? Yes, there was a mission, the job was important, but Fitz should have come first.

They could have found a way to serve both the mission and Fitz’s recovery. No matter how much they gave to S.H.I.E.L.D., it was never going to give anything back. But the team, they were supposed to look out for each other, protect each other. And they had let Fitz down.

But she had let Fitz down first. “I’m sorry… I don’t know how to make it right.” She said, trying to keep her heartbreak from seeping into her words.

“Knowing you meant well helps.”

“Can I just say… I just… it hurts, that you always assumed the worst of me. I thought after ten years I’d have earnt some benefit of the doubt?” Jemma said, looking down at her lap. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw him nod.

“It’s like I was seeing the world through a filter, I didn’t understand your motives, so I created my own that fitted with the filter I had.” He said sadly.

“I’m starting to think working for S.H.I.E.L.D. and healthy recovery don’t go together too well.” Jemma bit her lip and waited for his response.

“I think I’m in-incl-… I agree.” They sat in silence, unsure quite what to do with that understanding. “I know we’re still working, but we’re away from everything else, we just have one thing to focus on. And it won’t take all of our time, there will be a lot of waiting on computers. Maybe we can just… I don’t know… figure ourselves out again? No expectations.” He said slowly, like he was still thinking the idea through as he said it.

“You keep saying that, ‘no expectations’.”

“Well I mean it. I know you aren’t… in the same place as me so… Really just talking things through, that’s better than I could have hoped for.” He mumbled.

“Fitz?” He lifted his eyes up off his lap and looked into hers. “I know what I want.”

“You do?” He said and nervously swallowed.

“Yeah.”

“Okay…”

“I want us to fix things between us, and then… and then explore something more.” She said anxiously.

“Something more?”

“Yes.” She said more firmly, not wanting him to misinterpret her. He nodded slightly and breathed in nervous breathes. She leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to the side of his lips. He leaned into her, gently kissing her back. “I want you.” She thought to him, through the swell of emotions exploding out of them both. There was a sadness between them, sadness at the lost time and hurt they had caused each other. But hope too.

Chapter Text

Fitz had insisted she take the bed and he the sofa. He had the lamp on and was reading the diary she’d kept at Hydra. Jemma tossed and turned, trying to sleep, rather than dwell on the fact that Fitz was reading her diary, getting a view into her soul. It was weird, they had shared thoughts for their entire friendship, yet him reading the diary she had given to him for that explicit purpose, made her squirm. She wanted him to read it, it was just difficult.

When she had finally successfully distracted herself from her anxiety, her brain fixated on their conversation instead. On how the corner of his lips had felt, pressed against hers. How she finally felt like some of their wounds were healing.

Fitz let out a humourless and bitter hum. He was frustrated, she could feel that much, she just didn’t know exactly why. “We were both so lonely. Hundreds of miles apart and longing for each other. And then when you did come back, I didn’t know how to handle it and I mucked that up too.” He said quietly.

“You don’t need to read it, if it’s not helpful. Don’t torture yourself.” He hummed in response, and she heard the book close. She wanted to ask him to join her in the bed, she knew the sofa wasn’t comfortable for him and she wanted to be close to him, hold him, if he’d let her. But she didn’t know how to ask him. Didn’t know what pace they should take things. Would they know once things were fixed enough to start exploring a new aspect to their relationship?

It turned out Fitz was wondering much the same thing, his thoughts meandering into her head without his knowledge. “The bed is plenty big for two.” She said.

“Yeah?” Nervous excitement shot out of him.

“Mmhhmm.” She answered, glad he had changed his mind about staying on the sofa.

He rolled off the sofa, picked his pillow up and padded across the room to join her on the bed. He placed his pillow down and lay on his side facing her. More than anything Jemma wanted to kiss him again, really kiss him. Press their bodies together and see where the moment took them. But she didn’t want to ruin things, rush in too quickly before they were ready, before they had healed the wounds they had inflicted upon each other. So instead, she brought her hand up to the pillow and placed it next to his, mere millimetres separating them. Fitz hesitated a moment before latching his little finger over hers. The contact brought shivers down her spine. It also revealed to Fitz her inner conflict between her desire to kiss him and determination not to muck things up by rushing in before they were ready.

“How about for now we just do this.” He thought as he snuggled in closer, wrapping his arms around her. He placed a kiss on the top of her head and Jemma fought the urge to angle her head up to meet his lips with her own. She focused on the importance of getting it right, of making sure they had solid foundations, she snuggled her head against his collar bone and let herself get used to hearing him in her head again. Jemma let herself grow accustomed to their consciousness becoming one, finding the peace in it, rather than letting herself feel anxious about her exposed thoughts.

She wasn’t sure she’d ever get completely used to having Fitz’s unfiltered thoughts in her head. But she was getting used to it enough to start to mentally relax. She snuggled in closer as she felt herself drifting off to sleep, enjoying the smell of his shower gel and shampoo.

“You smell nice too.” Fitz whispered against her forehead, pressing a kiss against her brow. His voice was thick and tired, and she knew soon they would both be asleep. Tomorrow would bring hard work and experimentation as they figured out how best to help Skye, but for now, they could just be. She fell asleep in the warmth of his arms, listening to the steady sound of him breathing and the hum of his consciousness in her mind.

Then she was in a helicopter, with Fitz’s lifeless body being violently pumped by medics desperately trying to bring life back to him. But he was dead, there was nothing left of him when she touched him. She watched helplessly as they compressed his chest time and time again. She watched as his body jolted and convulsed as the AEG sent pulses through him.

“Jemma! Wake up, it’s okay, it’s over!” Fitz was shaking her awake. Confused and disorientated she pushed him off her as she sat up, kicking the duvet off. She was damp and it took a moment for her to realise she was clammy from sweat, not the ocean sea. No matter how big a breath she took in none seemed to fill her lungs and she gasped shaky, tearful breathes, desperate for air. “Lets, uhh, let’s get you some fresh air outside.” Fitz touched the small of her back, no doubt to guide her out of bed, but Jemma flinched away from his hand. She was on red alert, fight or flight had kicked in and right now she needed to get out of the room. She rushed for the bathroom, splashing cool water against her hot skin. Once her face and neck were dowsed with water, her legs gave out and she sank to the floor, pulling herself into the corner between the bath and the wall, hugging her legs tight. The memory kept playing on repeat in her head, Fitz dead in front of her, because she hadn’t thought of a better plan, hadn’t swam fast enough, hadn’t been enough. “Jemma?” Fitz gently knocked on the bathroom door. She didn’t remember locking the door, but it was locked, nonetheless. “Jemma, I’m going to unlock it from this side if you don’t open up.” He waited a moment for her to move but she couldn’t.

She heard his steps as he looked around for something to open the lock with and then his steps returned to the door and the lock span round. He pushed the door open, his figure illuminated by the bedroom sidelight. He sat himself down opposite her cautiously. “How can I help?” He asked, his voice still gravelly from sleep.

A hiccupped sob broke out of her mouth, and she hugged her knees tighter to her chest. “I’m sorry.” She managed to get out between sharp shallow breaths.

Fitz shook his head. “Nothing to say sorry for.” He slowly shuffled closer until he was next to her and Jemma felt her last ounce of strength leave her. She leaned into him, clinging to him like a child and cried into his shoulder. It was stupid, getting so upset over something that had happened months and months ago. Stupid when she knew Fitz was alive in front of her. But it had felt so real. “It’s not stupid Jemma. I never knew you’d seen all that… that it had been that bad.” He said quietly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to see it too.” She cried.

“Stop apologising. You couldn’t help it. And anyway, I thought we were sharing things now.” He said it in a light, slightly jokey tone, trying to lift the mood. But she knew he was struggling with seeing from her perspective how close he had come to death. CPR was never pleasant, but to witness it, with yourself as the patient, must have been a different kind of disturbing. “Jemma, it’s okay, I’m fine. Stop worrying about me and focus on yourself, just for one minute. Let’s just breath together, okay?” He helped her get her breathing back under control, rubbing gentle circles against her back. “Can we talk about this?” Fitz asked when she had finally stopped crying. Her immediate reaction was to say no. She was tired and emotionally exhausted. But they needed to start as they meant to go on. She nodded her head and detached herself form his side. “Why don’t we sit outside?” Fitz asked.

“Okay.” Jemma agreed. They got up off the bathroom floor and Fitz grabbed the biggest and thickest blanket he could find. They went out through the lab and to the front porch. Jemma sat down on the front steps and Fitz joined her, wrapping the blanket round her shoulders, careful not to touch her. Whether he did that for her benefit or his, she didn’t know. Sometimes being soulmates just straight up sucked. Having your innermost thoughts shared with even the briefest contact sometimes felt more like a violation than intimacy. “I’m sorry.” She said after a few moments of silence.

“For what?” Fitz asked.

“For everything, all of that.” She said, arms gesturing in a circle.

“For the dream? Which you had no control over. Or for your reaction to the dream? Which again, seemed to me, like something you didn’t have much control over.”

Why wouldn’t he just let her apologise. “I can still be sorry for it.”

“I’m saying you don’t need to be.” Fitz said gently, voice barley above a whisper.

“Well I’m sorry anyway.” They fell back into silence and Jemma focused her attention on the way the moonlight bounced off the lake.

“Do you remember that often? You mentioned bad dreams in your diary…” Fitz pressed.

“I guess. More at the beginning and then again when I went away. When you were in a coma it was pretty relentless. But it’ fine, they’re just dreams. I just take a few minutes to calm down. Tonight, was different because you were here and we’re in a new place, that just confused me when I first woke up. It’s not normally quite that bad.”

“So I made it worse?” Fitz asked full of worry.

“I didn’t say that.” Jemma said hurriedly, not wanting him to feel guilty for the fact that his presence there had made it harder for her to deal with the dream.

“I think I just got a tiny insight into why you left…” Fitz said quietly. “Did you ever talk to anyone? Y’know, whist I was in a coma? Talk about what it was like for you?”

“Not really. Skye offered of course. But I never wanted to. I suppose the closest was when May found me crying in the shower. But she didn’t say much. But she did help me.”

“Why were you crying in the shower?”

“The water… it brought things back, took a while for me to be okay with it. I’m fine with it again now though.” Jemma brushed off, she didn’t want to make the most traumatic time in his life all about her.

In the low light Jemma couldn’t read Fitz’s facial expression, but an uneasy tension bubbled out of him. “I don’t think I ever really thought about what it was like for you. I was so caught up in my own head. Focused on what I’d lost. I didn’t think about what it had been like for you. I’m sorry.” Fitz said sincerely.

“It’s okay Fitz.” She’d never expected him to focus on anything but his own recovery. “It happened to you after all.”

“No, it happened to us. Yeah, I’m the one with the brain damage but it was us in the pod, together. It was you that witnessed everything.” He looked at intensely with his blue eyes. “I think we should talk about that too. What it was like for you. We both know what it was like for me, for better or worse you got more… in- insight into that than anyone else. But I don’t know what it was like for you.” His reminder of how his thoughts had wormed their way into her head without either of them granting them permission caused her to stiffen. There were so many bad memories she wanted to move past.

“Really Fitz, it’s fine, I don’t want to go backwards.”

“It’s not going backwards. It’s dealing with our trauma.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Fitz.” She said more firmly.

“Why not?” He was frustrated but trying not to let it show, unfortunately for him, Jemma knew him too well to miss the signs.

“Because I want to move on.” There was an impatient edge to her voice that she didn’t like. Fitz was only trying to help, but she didn’t want to talk to him about how awful it had been. She didn’t want to remember it. Maybe that was why she had given him her letters and diary; it was easier for them to speak for her. And remembering the events immediately after his injury was even harder than remembering her time away.

“Well clearly you can’t while you’re still having nightmares about it.” Fitz insisted, trying to stop his frustration form rising in his voice, only doing slightly better than herself in holding it back.

“I think I’m going to go for a walk.” Jemma said and stepped back inside to get shoes and a coat.

“Jemma, please just stay?”

“I just need a few minutes to myself.” She said as she tugged on the coat. She took off down the steps and across the path, heading towards the lake. The lake was beautiful in the moonlight, the reeds by the lake swayed in the breeze, revealing a group of ducks huddled together sleeping on the grassy bank. She could see Fitz, still sat on the steps of the front porch, head in his hands, the odd wave of frustration and sadness leaking out of him and into her. Jemma walked around the lake, walking near the edge and occasionally stopped to throw stones into the water. Throwing the stones helped calm her down, although a larger stone made a splash loud enough for her to cringe with the memory of trying to tread water, already exhausted from her swim, and frantically trying to keep Fitz’s head above water.

She breathed in a steadying breath. Things were better and she didn’t want to be weighed down by the pains of the past, it was over. Fitz was alive and was doing okay, he was getting used to his new normal. There was no need to fixate on the past, on the what if’s and what might have been’s. Yet her brain wouldn’t let go of the past. Fitz was right, how could she move on when she was still haunted by nightmares. Even if they were less common than before, they were no less terrifying. The fear still felt so real.

The grassy edge of the lake gave way to forest before her and Jemma knew better than to try to make her way through a forest in the dark. But she wasn’t ready to head back yet either. So she found a rock large enough and sat down. Massaging her forehead, she tried to force the stress out of her body. Despite her fatigue she knew sleep was a long way off, her whole body remained on edge.

She’d been sat down for half an hour or so when she heard Fitz’s voice calling out to her. “I’m over here!” She called back. He jogged over to her, and awkwardly dug his shoe into the mud as he waited for her to speak, clearly he had got worried about her being gone so long, but didn’t want to be the one who suggested they go back to bed. “What do you remember?” She asked. “Of the coma? And afterwards?” Did he know the hours she had spent holding his hand, waiting for some small change in his mind or her reading to him because she could sense how it calmed him down?

“I don’t know.” He said after a moment’s consideration. “I don’t think I remember the coma at all, and then it’s just fuzzy for a long time, I mostly remember being frustrated. One doctor poking and prodding me, another asking questions, and then phys- physio getting me to do this and speech and language asking me to do that. It’s all a bit of a blur. It gets clearer once I was in my own bunk though.” Knowing he didn’t remember it made her feel even more alone. At the time she had clung to him, they had shared so much, but now it turned out he hadn’t shared that with her. “That’s why I want to know what it was like for you. I want to understand what happened.” He said carefully. “Skye said you read to me a lot, never left the room unless they, they pulled you away.”

Jemma nodded. “You… uhh… I could feel you coming back, your brain, it got more active as you slowly woke up. So I’d read to you to calm you down. You were so confused all the time, but when you heard me, you were calmer. So I’d read you scientific journals or books. Anything so that you could hear me talking.” Jemma said quietly.

“I might not remember it… but thank you.” Fitz said stepping closer and crouching down next to her. She gave him a sad smile, not sure what else to say. “Is it alright if I stay? I won’t be able to sleep until you come back so don’t bother telling me to go back to bed.” Fitz said. Jemma moved over on the rock, creating room for him to join her.

They sat together on the rock, Jemma’s head resting on his shoulder, until her neck ached. The sky was starting to brighten as the morning grew closer and Jemma finally felt her anxiety release her from its tight grip. “We can head back now. I’m ready to go back to bed.” Jemma said. Fitz nodded his head and they walked back to the cabin in silence. Jemma wanted to hold his hand, but she didn’t trust her brain, she had just got herself calm and relaxed, what if something in his head set her off again or she revealed something she wasn’t ready to? So instead, she let their arms brush, protected by their coats, their thoughts safe in their own heads.

“I can… are you alright with me in the bed? Because I can go back to the sofa if not?” Fitz asked as they arrived back at the cabin.

“No, no, stay in the bed.” She insisted. There was a slight awkward tension between them, she was sure he had guessed she didn’t want to touch him, or rather she did, she just didn’t want to reveal her thoughts to him at the same time. “It’s not that I don’t want… I don’t…” She sighed. “My head has only just calmed down, I’m not sure I’m ready to have your brain in their too.” She said, not wanting him to think he had done anything wrong, that she didn’t trust him.

“Okay, I’ll keep to my side of the bed.” Fitz said, and he kept true to his word, staying rigidly still while she tried to find sleep again. She wasn’t sure she’d ever forgive whatever evolutionary mutation had brought about soulmates. It was so unfair, just because you loved someone didn’t mean you wanted them inside your head every time you touched. Maybe they could get back to their research whilst they had access to a detailed lab without supervision? Find a way to stop the unfiltered sharing when they touched… or at least find a way to have control over it? She fell asleep mentally noting all the experimentation they could do on themselves whilst at the cabin, her brain finally focused on something other than what had happened to Fitz.

Chapter Text

Jemma woke to the smell of toast. Fitz was stood in the kitchen, still in his pyjamas, spreading honey over toast. His hair was ruffled from sleep and his scruff was a little thicker from overnight growth. The sun shone through the window, illuminating his face, and Jemma couldn’t help the warm bloom of attraction from deep within her. “Morning.” Fitz said once he noticed her gaze on him. Jemma felt a blush creeping in at being caught ogling. “I uhh, I cut up some fruit for you, there’s porridge so I figured you’d probably want that with some fruit.”

Jemma’s heart fluttered at his thoughtfulness. “Thank you. I think I’ll go for a run first though.” She suddenly had a lot of nervous energy to burn through. She needed to get it out of her system if she had any hope of concentrating on their work today. And hopefully it would provide her with some much-needed energy after her poor night’s sleep. Fitz’s face fell a little after she spoke. “I’ll have it after though, maybe just pop it in the fridge?” She said with a reassuring smile, not wanting him to think she didn’t appreciate his efforts.

“Could I join you? On the run I mean?” Fitz asked as she made her way to the bathroom.

“You hate running.” Jemma said with a suspicious eyebrow.

“Well I might like it here, I don’t want to spend our whole time here cooped up in the lab. Besides, it might be nice, together, y’know?” He wanted to go running, with her, to enjoy the outside, with her. It made her stomach summersault. And he was right, it would be nice to do something together, especially now they had started working on clearing the air between them and things no longer felt awkward and tense. She couldn’t remember the last time they had had fun doing something non-work related together.

She tried and failed to supress the massive grin working its way onto her lips. “That would be lovely. Don’t eat too much though or you’ll feel ill.” She teased as he shoved his last slice of toast into his mouth. Fitz comically froze mid bite before putting the toast back on his plate, looking at it longingly.

“I’ll eat after.” He said as he cleaned up the food in the kitchenette. “The sacrifice’s I make for you.” He said, shaking his head before a grin poked through.

Ten minutes later they were both making their way round the lake. Fitz, having not packed for exercise was in a pair of tracksuit bottoms he’d brought for any cold nights and a plan shirt he normally used as a pyjama top. Jemma on the other hand was in her usual exercise outfit, a pair of three-quarter length leggings and a tank top. They chatted as they went, finally able to just enjoy each other’s company without all the underlying angst. They talked a bit about the beautiful nature surrounding them, Jemma enjoyed telling him interesting facts about the trees and flowers they passed. It reminded her of her runs in New Hampshire, all the photos she’d taken, wishing she could show Fitz the real thing. And now she could, it wasn’t quite the same and she was sure as the days went on the area within the S.H.I.E.L.D. perimeter would get less exciting and interesting, but for now at least, they were having a wonderful time.

They ran round the entire perimeter of the lake, through the forest too, which was much less intimidating in the light. Once the cabin was in sight again Fitz picked up the pace. “Race you back.” He shouted with an impish grin. Despite his head start, Jemma quickly gained on him and overtook him much to his chagrin. She slowed down as the path got more twisted as it dodged and swerved larger rocks and uneven ground. Fitz, clearly intent on catching her up, kept going at full speed, ignoring the weaving path and hurdling over any rocks in his way, until he collided with her, causing them both to tumble to the grass.

“Fitz!” She exclaimed as she fell face first into the grass with Fitz right on top of her.

“Sorry.” He said before they both burst into laughter. His arm had wrapped around her as they fell, causing their minds to mix, which only amplified their laughter and joy, both aware of how freeing it was to be able to act like children, and just enjoy themselves. He rolled off her back, and instantly Jemma missed the contact. They continued to giggle, and on a whim Jemma poked him in the side, right where she knew he was ticklish. “Oh we’re doing that now are we?” Fitz said with a mischievous grin. What ensued could only be described as a merciless tickle fight in the grass. They wrestled with each other as they both tried to tickle the other without being tickled themselves. She wasn’t sure she could remember a time they had laughed so much.

She ended up straddling Fitz’s waist, pinning his hands above his head, her head just centimetres from his. Who moved first, she didn’t know, but before she knew it his lips were hungrily moving against hers, and hers were moving just as feverishly against his. It was nothing like their kiss on the Quinjet, that one had been full of confusion and pent-up anguish, but this, this was full of joy and excitement, hope for the future. There was a surety neither of them had had before, this time they both knew they wanted the kiss as badly as the other, that they wanted the same thing. She released his hands and let her hands wonder over him, roaming his hair and running across his stubble. His hands pulled her down closer to him, so she was flush against his chest, their hearts beating in time together. For the first time she understood the benefit of hearing his thoughts while they kissed, it was nothing short of stimulating, knowing what he was thinking, what he liked, what he wanted.

It was Fitz who broke the kiss, angling his head so that their foreheads touched, stopping things from getting any more heated. “I uhh-” His voice was thick and he cleared his throat before continuing. Not that he needed to, she already knew what he was thinking. “We shouldn’t rush things, right?” He was right of course, they still had things to work through, a heart to heart and a morning run wouldn’t heal all that had gone wrong between them. But the odd kiss while working through everything didn’t seem so wrong… He smiled as he heard her working through what he’d said. “I don’t think that counts as the odd kiss…” He leaned back into her, kissing her slowly and tenderly. “This… seems to better… fit… that description.” He murmured against her, alternating between gentle kisses and affectionate nuzzles.

They broke apart at the sound of a wolf whistle. Skye was stood on her porch, coffee in hand, grinning with amusement. They hadn’t realised quite how close they were to Skye’s cabin and were now feeling rather embarrassed at being caught. Jemma quickly pulled herself off of Fitz and sat awkwardly in the grass next to Fitz, who was shifting his trousers uncomfortably. “Morning!” Skye called, enjoying herself far too much. “So, when did this happen?” She said with a hard stare that soon turned into a wide grin. “I’ll try not to be too offended that I had to find out this way.”

“Uhhhh… well…” Jemma started, hoping the sentence would find itself once she opened her mouth. It did not. “We uhhh…”

“We would appreciate your dis-discretion and respect for our privacy.” Fitz said firmly.

“Nothing says privacy like making out on my front lawn.” Skye grinned. “I see the country air is doing wonders for your virility.” She teased.

“We went for a run.” Fitz said with a tight jaw, more than a little uncomfortable with the piercing look Skye was giving them.

“Sure.”

“Anyway, how’s the cabin?” Jemma asked, wanting to distract Skye.

“Boring. No Wi-Fi is a pretty big deal breaker for me. And unlike you two, I’ve no one to talk to or swap saliva with.” Jemma rolled her eyes at Skye’s ribbing; this was going to be insufferable. “I see a lot of solitaire and reading in my future, thankfully there’s a decent sized library here. It’s quite cosy really, if I ignore the whole no Wi-Fi business. How’s yours?”

“Ours is eighty percent lab, twenty percent house.” Fitz answered, relieved that they were talking about anything other than them being caught making out in the grass.

They continued to chat, it was nice to just talk to each other (despite Skye’s continued teasing), not about a mission or anything work related. They talked until Fitz’s growling stomach could be ignored no more, and they had to head in to get their breakfast.

The rest of the day passed in a whirlwind of tests and analysis and messages to Skye, they both had a direct message system to her so they could talk to her individually or together. Fitz tinkered away at some gloves that would hopefully reduce the damage Skye’s powers were doing to her arms and hands, while Jemma worked on further analysing Skye’s changed DNA. It took most of the day for them to settle into the new lab, but by mid-afternoon they were finally getting to grips with where everything was and how best to navigate the space.

But the best part was their renewed connection. Without even realising it, they had fallen back into their old habit of communicating telepathically, without touch, filling each other in on their latest findings and hypotheses. It was like a muscle, the muscle memory was still there, and now that they were in a better place, with less tension between them, their control had bounced back. They were healing. And Jemma couldn’t be happier. Working with Fitz again felt right, like it was their natural state to be working together and achieving great things through science.

By 5pm Jemma felt more than satisfied with their work, Fitz had a design for gloves to protect Skye’s arms and Jemma felt like she was starting to understand what had happened to Skye’s DNA. “You know, I think with some targeted gene therapy we could remove all the new macromolecules and restore her DNA to its original state.” She said as she shut down her station for the day.

“What?”

“I know, wouldn’t it be amazing, this whole nightmare would be over.” Jemma chirped as she continued to pack away her things. Not only would she be able to help Skye but they would be able to develop a treatment for anyone else exposed to the gas emitted from the obelisk.

“Wh-wh-why? Why would you want to do that?” Fitz asked, Jemma looked up at him in confusion to be met with an equally confused expression on his face.

“To fix what the obelisk did, isn’t that the objective here?” What exactly did Fitz think they were supposed to be doing? Skye’s powers were dangerous and unstable, of course removal of the powers was the best option if it was available to them.

“She doesn’t need fixing, she just needs to learn to control her powers. You think the Avengers need fixing?” He asked, his voice rising.

“That’s hardly the same Fitz. And if she’s like any of the Avengers it’s the Hulk, and I’m sure Doctor Banner would want to be cured, if it were an option. And I believe for Skye, it is.” Jemma persisted, convinced she could bring him around to her point of view.

“Not everything needs a cure.” He said bitterly.

“So you think we should leave Skye with dangerous and unstable powers?” Why was he being so unreasonable, powers were not like they were in comic books, in fact everyone they had met with powers, had met a devastating fate. And she would do everything she could to prevent any more bad things happening to the people she loved.

“No, I think we should, we should, equ- should equip her with the necessary tools and skills to, to, to control it.” As he grew more frustrated his words became harder to find, reminding her of just how dire the consequences could be when she failed.

“And what if she can’t?”

“Doesn’t she deserve the option?” He bit back.

“And what if more people are hurt in the process? Trip died because we failed to take the necessary precautions.” Unwelcome tears prickled behind her eyes.

“And if she can control them, she can protect people better, stop another tragedy.”

“Or unwittingly cause one.” Jemma tried to stop her voice rising, they had been having such a lovely day, she didn’t want to ruin it.

“You don’t have to be scared of every change!” Fitz argued, rubbing his forehead.

“I’m not scared, I’m being responsible.” Jemma reasoned.

“You’re scared because of what happened to me, because of my brain damage, and if you can’t fix me then the next best thing is to fix Skye, whether she wants it or not.” His words were quieter than before but no less fiery.

So that’s what this was about, he thought she wanted to change him, which was of course ridiculous. “This has nothing to do with what happened to you.” Jemma defended.

“You can’t even say it Jemma.” He said in angry disappointment. “I have a brain injury. You can name it, it’s not, it’s not, not freaking Voldemort!” Fitz said angrily as he left the cabin, slamming the door behind him. Leaving Jemma alone to wonder how it had gone so wrong so fast.

Chapter Text

Jemma stood in the lab alone, through the window she could see Fitz angrily stalking off. She wanted to follow him, but it looked like he wanted to be left alone, and the last thing she wanted was to make things worse. But he wasn’t going to understand her point of view if they didn’t talk further…

Before she had a chance to decide whether to follow him, her computer screen lit up. Skye was calling from her cabin. Jemma sat back down in her chair and answered it.

“Hey, everything okay?” Skye asked.

“Yeah.” Jemma lied; she didn’t have the energy to get into it all again.

“So Fitz is just angrily marching over to the lake for fun then?” Skye asked and swivelled her camera around so Jemma could see Skye’s view of Fitz out the window.

Jemma sighed. “We had a work argument that turned into a proper argument.” Skye looked at her with a raised eyebrow, asking her to share more. “I… If I said I could take your powers away, would you want that?”

Skye looked a little taken aback by the seemingly unrelated topic but considered the question. “I don’t know, maybe. Fitz thinks I can get control of them though, be a superhero. But I’m not sure. I haven’t had any episodes since being out here though… but it’s easier here. Just because I can control it here doesn’t mean I could back at S.H.I.E.L.D. or on a mission. The idea of using my powers for good, well that seems impossible right now. But if I could… well I’d like to.” Skye said thoughtfully.

“Right… well I think I could, take them away that is, if you decided you wanted that.” Jemma said, Skye’s answer had not been what she expected, but it was thoughtful and honest, and she couldn’t fault that. Just because she would want to be rid of such dangerous powers didn’t mean everyone else would, and she supposed they had a point, if in theory, Skye could learn to control her powers, then she would be a force to be reckoned with.

“That’s what you were arguing about? Taking my powers away?” Skye asked, looking rather upset that she was the cause of the argument.

“Only to start with. He thinks I want to fix you because I can’t fix him. Which is ridiculous.”

“You think I should get rid of my powers?” Skye asked, concerned.

“It’s what I would do. But it’s your decision.”

“And Fitz thinks I should keep them?” Skye asked, Jemma nodded her head, Skye bit her lip thoughtfully. “Do you want to fix Fitz?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous. I miss how he used to be, I think that’s okay.  But also, we need to accept this new Fitz, have you done that? Have you really and truly done that? Because for a long time, I know I was hoping the old Fitz would come back, I didn’t know how to handle it and I didn’t do enough to support him. I don’t think I really understood it until this all happened to me. What it’s like to wake up and your whole world has changed.”

“I understood plenty. He was broadcasting all his thoughts to me at the beginning, remember?”

“Hearing it and living it aren’t the same though.” Skye responded calmly. “I’m not trying to accuse you of anything Jemma, I’m just asking whether there’s any truth to it? If so, then you need to work through it. If not then it’s about helping Fitz work through his anxieties, but you have to ask yourself if there’s any truth to it first.”

“He’s still Fitz, he is still loyal and kind and brave, and all his other many wonderful qualities.” Jemma said. “His brain works a little differently now, but he’s still Fitz.” It was true, she’d seen it more since they had arrived at the cabin, he was still Fitz, his inherent goodness shining through all the hurt and trauma. There were differences, his confidence had taken a massive hit, and obviously communication was a big challenge for him, but the parts of him that she loved, they were still there.

“Have you told him that?” Skye asked.

“I… I don’t know… I need to go talk to him.”

“Good luck.” Skye said with a sympathetic smile before ending the call.

She found Fitz sat on the stone they had sat on together during the night. His right leg jiggled anxiously, and he was massaging his left palm as he stared out intensely at the lake. “Hey.” She said quietly. Fitz looked up at her and nodded but remained silent. “I… I don’t want to fix you. I don’t know what gave you that impression, but I’m sorry for anything I’ve done that did. I… I just want the best for you.” She said, not really sure what to say.

Fitz studied her, perhaps looking for any trace of dishonesty. “I want to be able to… to-to b-bel-believe you.” He broke his eye contact with her and his head fell into his hands. “I just don’t know if it’s my own, my own… an- worries stopping me or if…”

“You can’t trust me?” Bobbi’s words echoed in her head, if they didn’t have trust… well they didn’t have anything. Anxiety pulsed through her body, she thought they had made so much progress, but perhaps some of the damage between them was too great to be fixed in such a short amount of time.

“No, no, I do trust you… it’s just…” Fitz looked out to the lake, his jaw tight with anxiety. “I think you blame yourself, for what happened, and when you blame yourself for something, you want to fix it. And I don’t need fixing. And it’s taken a long time for me to recognise that I’m not broken, that I’m different and that’s okay, and it’s not the same as being broken. I worked really hard to get here. But your guilt… I don’t need or want to be fixed.” Fitz said carefully, concentrating on not stumbling over his words, still not looking at her. The unspoken implication that she was detrimental to his journey of self-acceptance was like a dagger to her heart.

“I don’t think you need fixing. You're still you. Yes, there are differences, but all the qualities that made you my best friend, they're still there.” Fitz turned to look at her, wanting her to respond to the other part of what he had said. “What do you want me to say? That I don’t feel guilty? Of course I do. If I had thought of something else, swam faster, got you on the helicopter faster… there are so many ways I let you down. If I had been better, I could have spared you so much pain.”

“Jemma, you saved me. I had resigned myself to death, but you saved me. You didn’t let me down, I don’t blame you for my injury.”  Fitz insisted, his anger dissipating into a desire for them to be on the same page.

“I know, we’ve had this conversation before. When you first woke up.” Jemma said sadly. Yet another memory only she held of the two of them.

Fitz’s jaw tightened before he spoke again. “You say you don’t want to fix me but then you blame yourself for my injury. Wish you had done better so that I wasn’t as badly affected.” Fitz said, frustration seeping back in. “How is that any different?”

“Only to spare you the pain you went through, not because I want to fix you. There’s nothing to fix. But you can’t deny that you’ve gone through a lot of hurt and pain since the accident.” Jemma said, wringing her hands out in front of her. She could feel his eyes on her, but this time it was her who had to look away.

“Jemma, you swam ninety feet, on one breath of oxygen, pulling me behind you. Don’t you realise how insane that is? You did the impossible. You saved my life.” He said softly and full of awe.

“You saved mine first.”

“So let’s agree that we saved each other, and that we both got hurt along the way. No guilt, no blame.” Fitz said, standing up to face her. Gently he took her hands in his. “I don’t blame you, and I don’t want you feeling guilty about the best thing you ever did for me.”

“And me wishing away your pain doesn’t mean I think you’re broken or in need of fixing.” She told him through their connected hands. There was something so intimate about having this conversation telepathically, it was for them and them alone, not even the nature around them got to hear it. Fitz nodded his head and leaned forward to press his forehead against hers.

“I’m not expecting months of guilt to disappear after one conversation, but please try to let it go. I know these things take time, as today has shown, I still have work to do on letting go of my anxieties. But when these things come up, we need to talk about it.” He thought to her as he nuzzled against her. “I think today has proved we still have a lot to work through…” He said carefully.  “I shouldn’t have stormed out earlier, I’m sorry. I still need to work on my temper.”

“It’s okay. I'm sorry too. And you were right, Skye doesn’t want a cure, not if she can learn to control it. I’m just not sure how to help her with that. But I’m confident she’s not contagious, so tomorrow maybe we can have her over and she can help us with our work. Might help you with your gloves to have her hands to measure up yourself, too.” Jemma didn’t like admitting she was wrong and Fitz knew that, with or without their telepathic connection. He gently kissed her forehead and nodded.

“Sounds good to me.” Fitz said with a smile.

“Want to make dinner?” Jemma asked, already knowing his answer, his hunger had been plain to her the moment their hands touched. Fitz’s face transformed into one of eager excitement as he nodded.

It had been too long since they’d last cooked together, and it took time for them to fall back into a groove, especially for Fitz as he was out of the habit of cooking in general, life at the Playground rarely allowed time for a homecooked meal. They made a simple spaghetti bolognaise and invited Skye over to eat with them now that they knew she wasn’t contagious and hadn’t had any incidences since arriving at the safehouse. For a couple hours all three of them could pretend they were having a normal dinner party as friends, forget about the craziness of their lives and just hang out. After their meal Skye produced Monopoly, which she had dug out from her cabin, and insisted they play. What Skye hadn’t accounted for was her and Fitz ganging up and knocking her out of the game with cutthroat ferocity. Really Skye hadn’t stood a chance with their telepathic link allowing them to plot her demise. But once Skye was annihilated the gloves came off and she and Fitz battled it out until finally Jemma defeated him after he landed on Pennsylvania Avenue and Boardwalk, one after the other, both decked out with hotels.

“I would have won if it was the British version.” Fitz pouted.

“Sure.” Skye said with a laugh. It was getting late, and Fitz and Jemma were still tired from their interrupted sleep, but they were having fun and Skye had just opened the second bottle of wine. And really, this was the closest thing to a holiday S.H.I.E.L.D. agents could hope for, what with their organisation not officially existing anymore.

“Okay, but you two can’t cheat!” Skye exclaimed as they cleared up monopoly to play charades.

“We would never!” Fitz said in mock offence.  Skye gave them a stern look. “We promise.” He said more sincerely, clearly feeling a little guilty at their joint effort to destroy her at Monopoly. Skye went first and made the gesture for movie before holding up her fingers to gesture two words.

“First word, one syllable… angry?” Jemma asked.

“That’s two syllables.” Fitz laughed as Skye angrily mimed away.

“Horrid? No that’s two again.” Jemma mumbled, the wine seemed to be going to her head a bit.

Skye crossed her arms and pouted with a deep frown on her face. “Mean?” Fitz asked and Skye pointed at him and jumped up and down. “Mean Girls!” He shouted joyfully.

“Yes! You’re up, and nothing British that I won’t know. And no cheating!” Skye said as they traded places. While Fitz stood at the front thinking about what he would act out Skye whispered to Jemma. “You two totally watched Mean Girls together at the academy, right?” Jemma let out a quite laugh.

“Yeah… we did a lot of movie nights together while studying. He never even complained when we watched trashy romcoms.” Jemma said affectionately.

“He was willing to watch chick flicks with you and you didn’t realise he was boyfriend material at the time?” Skye said with a look of disbelief.

“I don’t know, that’s just what we did, I’d never had any friends before Fitz and neither had he, so we didn’t really know what we were doing.” Jemma admitted. Skye affectionately rolled her eyes.

Fitz cleared his throat. “If you’re quite done whispering about me, I’m ready.” He mimed out book, film and tv show and then held up six fingers. Then one and put his fingers in the shape of a ‘T’.

“First word is ‘the’.”  Skye said aloud. Fitz nodded.

“The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy!” Jemma shouted in excitement. To which Skye rolled her eyes in exacerbation.

The game continued on until she and Skye started nodding off on each other’s shoulders. They were well into their third bottle of wine, which really was more down to her and Skye than Fitz, who had never had much of a taste for wine. “Okay, party’s over.” Fitz said as he tidied up their wine glasses and bottles. “Come on Skye, I’ll walk you home.” He said as he grabbed her hand and pulled her up.

“How come you no drunk?” Skye mumbled.

“I’m Scottish.” He said with a shrug. “Hollow legs.” Skye let out a disbelieving gasp before swatting at him as she realised he was joking.

Jemma closed her eyes again and curled up on the sofa. “Come on you, let’s get to bed now.” Fitz whispered.

“Where’s Skye?” She asked, confused.

“I already walked her back, got her to drink some water and brush her teeth, I’ve altered some walkie talkies to work like a baby monitor, so if she has a problem I’ll head over. But I’m sure she’ll be fine.” Jemma looked at him, even more confused at how he could have done so much when she had only closed her eyes for a second. “Come on, you’re turn.” Fitz said as he pulled her up off the sofa and handed her a glass of water. She drank the water and he went to refill it while she went to brush her teeth. Once he had put a glass of water by both of their bedsides he came and joined her in the small bathroom to brush his teeth.

Fitz looked far better than he had any right to after such a long day, his curls called out to her and she found herself ruffling his hair with her free hand. “You’re very pretty.” She mumbled through her toothbrush.

“Yeah?” Fitz said with a stifled laugh, although what he found funny, she wasn’t sure. It was very important he knew how pretty he was.

“The prettiest.” She confirmed. Fitz just smiled through his toothbrush. When she was done with her teeth she stared into the mirror for a moment, sure she was forgetting something. She turned to Fitz, about to ask what it was she was forgetting but he already had his hand out holding a make-up wipe. Jemma grinned, he was the prettiest and the perfectist.

“You’re the prettiest too.” Fitz said with the softest of smiles once she had cleaned her face. Jemma blushed. “Come on, pyjamas next.”

“No looking.” Jemma told him as he passed her pyjamas to her.

Fitz held his hands up. “Okay, okay. I’m getting changed out here.” Fitz said and closed the door to the bathroom.

“Nooo, I need help.” She complained. Did he really expect her to be able to get dressed by herself? How was she supposed to manage that with all the wine she had drunk?

“I can’t help you while not looking at you.” Fitz sighed from the other side of the door.

“Please?” Fitz re-entered the bathroom with his hand in front of his face. “I’m not naked yet silly.” She teased, Fitz just blushed and brought his hand down. Fitz then awkwardly helped her strip down to her underwear, apologising every time his mind betrayed him and she heard his thoughts as he tried his hardest not to be distracted by her body. Really Jemma didn’t mind him looking, which he must have been aware of due to the many times she ended up holding his hands or bare arms for support. As he held her arm as she tried to step into her pyjama shorts, she caught a particularly complimentary and very much not platonic stray thought that he tried to quash as soon as it started.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m sorry.” He winced. “Really I don’t mean-”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” She said with the best flirtatious voice her inebriated state would allow for.

“You said you didn’t want me looking.” Fitz reminded her.

“Changed my mind.” She said and swiftly unclipped her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Really she deserved a round of applause, unclipping your bra from behind, while as drunk as she was, was indeed applause worthy. Fitz swallowed nervously, and looked upwards at the ceiling, while she dared him to look down.

“Jemma.” He said, his voice strained and jaw tight.

“It’s okay.” She said and leaned in to kiss him. But Fitz leaned away, holding his hand up between them, causing an uncontrollable scowl to form on her face.

“Jemma you’re drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.” She insisted.

“You’re drunk enough.” He said and handed her the camisole. “Put this on and then go to the toilet.” He said and turned around, leaving the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

Feeling more than a little embarrassed and hurt by his rejection, she struggled with the camisole until she managed to get it on and then finished up in the bathroom. Fitz was sat on the sofa in his boxers and a plain t-shirt. It was a warm night and she couldn’t help but be disappointed that he had put a t-shirt on to sleep. “Come on, lets get you to bed.” He said. It was then that she noticed his pillow on the sofa and that he had moved his water from the bedside table to the coffee table.

“You’re sleeping on the sofa?” Why? Had he changed his mind? Did he not like what he’d seen? Did he think her so drunk she couldn’t control herself?

“Just for tonight, I think it’s best.” He said his voice steady.

“You don’t need to.” She said, hurt dripping off every word. She wouldn’t have drunk so much if she’d known he wouldn’t want to sleep in the bed with her.

“I just think you’ll feel better in the morning, waking up on your own.”

“I’m sorry about the bathroom.” She had messed up, catastrophically.

“Jemma, it’s fine, come on, in the bed.” He said as he guided her to her bed. As his arm touched hers, she realised why he was being so hesitant. He was reminded of her very first date with the awful Paxton, of how he’d got her to drink too much wine and what he’d tried to do afterwards in her dorm.

“I know you’re not like him, you know?” She whispered, they hadn’t talked about Paxton for years, it was a memory she’d be much happier completely forgetting.

“I know. But you haven’t had this much to drink in a long time, I don’t want you to wake up and, and… feel fuzzy on the details. Okay? We're not in any rush, we've got time for... other things when we're both sober, yeah?” He said and pressed a soft kiss to her temple. She nodded her head, knowing he was right. “Goodnight.” He said as she pulled herself under the sheets.

“Goodnight Fitz.” The moment her head hit the pillow sleep flooded her brain and she drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

Chapter Text

She woke to a thundering headache and the taste of death in her mouth.  The dawn light was cracking through the curtains, and she could hear Fitz gently snoring from the sofa. The idea of going for a morning run or even just eating breakfast made her stomach churn.

Instead, she settled for a sip of the water Fitz had left out for her on her bedside table. It was a little warm but immediately her throat was soothed. She wanted nothing more than to turn over and sleep her hangover off, but that wasn’t an option, and really, she needed to get some more water in her system and hunt around for some pain killers.

It wasn’t until she was washing water over her face at the sink that she remembered the more embarrassing details of the previous night. Had she really asked Fitz to help her change and then dropped her bra to the floor? She owed him an apology, if she could even look him in the eye again, that was.  And of course, he’d been a complete gentleman the entire night, while she had acted like a drunk teenager. She shuddered with embarrassment, what had she been thinking?

Well, she knew what she’d been thinking, that Fitz was wonderful, kind, handsome and he loved her, and that there had been far too many items of clothing on the pair of them. But that didn’t mean it had been a good idea, not with countless glasses of wine in her system anyway.

When she left the bathroom, Fitz was pottering about in the kitchen. “Ready for our morning run?” He said with an impish smile. She scowled at him but couldn’t stop herself from smiling back at him when he presented her with a cup of tea made just to her liking.

“I- err… I’m sorry. About last night.” She said as he handed her the tea.

“It’s fine.” He said going a little red.

“It’s not. I shouldn’t have acted like that. I shouldn’t have drunk so much either. I’m sorry.”

“Jemma, it’s okay.” He said and took her hand in his. He felt a little uncomfortable talking about it, but he knew it was important to her, so he was trying to reassure her, which she appreciated.

“That’s not how I wanted it to be.” She said sadly, she was disappointed with herself, she had ruined what should have been an exciting next step in their changing relationship.

“You didn’t ruin anything. And I didn’t look, I promise.”

“You were stood right in front of me.” She said sceptically. But that wasn’t what the problem was anyway, it should have been a special moment, a moment of discovery and passion. Not one where Fitz was doing his best to take care of her because she had had far too much to drink.

“Doesn’t mean it won’t be special when we take that step.” He thought to her gently. She was just starting to believe him, that she hadn’t completely ruined things when she picked up on a quiet background thought in his head. “Just like saying you love me for the first time whilst drunk didn’t ruin anything.” It was a quiet thought, not one he had consciously thought or intended for her to hear, but she’d heard it nonetheless and he could hear her hearing it, running it through her brain.

“I said what?” Her jaw went slack, and she stepped back from him. She’d said she loved him and didn’t even remember it? She put her tea down and clamped her hands round the back of her neck.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to…” Fitz started. “It’s okay Jemma. There’s no right way to do things. It’s okay.” Fitz stammered out, feeling her panic and upset rush out of her.

“No it’s not. There are already so many memories, experiences that we shared that you don’t remember. I don’t want any more moments that only one of us remembers. I want us to be able to share it all.” She was so fed up with having time stolen from them, memories stollen and now firsts were being stolen too. And it was her own stupid fault.

“It’s okay Jemma.” He stepped forward and reached out a hand to cup her cheek, gently pulling her head towards his. With their foreheads pressed together he played her his memory.

“Goodnight Fitz.” Jemma murmured as she snuggled into the pillow. Her hair was unkempt and flowed out in a tangle onto the pillow and her cheeks were flushed red from the alcohol - she’d never looked more beautiful. “I love you.” She mumbled as she wrapped herself up in the thin quilt and drifted off to sleep. His heartbeat sped up and his stomach twisted with excitement and affection.

“I love you too Jemma Simmons.” He whispered and pressed a kiss on her forehead.

He still couldn’t quite believe it. After years of trying to ignore his feelings, supress them and convince himself they didn’t exist. After months of hiding his feelings once he finally admitted them to himself, and then months of thinking she didn’t return them. After months of thinking she was so uncomfortable with his feelings she had left him, now here he was, with her telling him she loved him. Knowing what her hands felt like in his, what her lips felt like on his, with her body pressed against him. He had never been happier.

“See? It’s okay.” Fitz nuzzled against her and played with her fingers in his hands as he spoke. “Things don’t need to be perfect, as long as we’re together then nothing else matters. And anyway, it was perfect to me.”

A shy smile broke onto her face. “I love you Fitz.”

“I love you too.” Fitz said with an adorable smile. Jemma leaned in and kissed him. “I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”  Fitz thought to her as she tried to deepen the kiss.

“I don’t care.” She thought back as she steered him towards the bed. They collapsed onto the bed but the momentum of it sent a shuddering thump through her head and a surge of nausea to her stomach.

For a brief moment she tried to power through, locking her lips to his again, but Fitz quickly withdrew, knowing she was suffering too much from her hangover to be able to enjoy kissing him the way she wanted. Instead, they settled for spooning, which was of course lovely, but if she’d known drinking would have resulted in her not taking things further with Fitz she definitely wouldn’t have drunk as much.

“There’s no rush.” Fitz whispered while he gently kissed her neck from where he was wrapped behind her. She could hear him, thinking that after waiting so long believing she didn’t return his feelings he didn’t care how long it took for them to take things further, knowing she loved him back was more than enough for him.

“How long? When did you realise?” She asked, she knew it had been on the Bus, but she didn’t know exactly when.

“I think I was always a little bit in love with you. I spent a lot of time at the beginning wondering if and when we’d fall into a more traditional soulmate relationship. But I was happy with our friendship, so I decided not to question things too much. When I… When I heard you and Milton…” Jemma tried not to cringe at the memory of her accidentally sharing her mind with him while she slept with someone else for the first time.

“That was… well confusing to say the least. But I didn’t want to ruin things, so I tried to put it out of my mind. And I was very successful until that awful Chitari virus. Couldn’t hide it from myself after that, but I thought you would never see me like that, hadn’t in ten years of friendship, so I did my best to conceal it.” Her heart ached for him, for how long he had carried the perceived burden of his feelings and the belief that they would be unwelcome.

“Would you have told me? If we hadn’t ended up in a life or death situation?” She asked, wanting to know how close they had come to missing out on this new aspect of their relationship. Would he have kept withdrawing from her until it ruined their friendship, or would he have told her? And how would she have reacted in a situation where they weren’t moments away from death?

“I don’t know. I think eventually you’d have forced it out of me, what with you wanting answers for my detachment and all that.”

“How romantic.” She said sarcastically, she could imagine the awkwardness, of her demanding answers for his distance from her and him feeling forced to tell her. “I’m glad it didn’t happen like that.” She said more seriously. “Do you think, if we’d met when we were older, we’d have given it a chance from the start? I just wonder how much of our problem was us being sixteen, with no concept of what friendship felt like let alone anything more, do you think we’d have realised sooner?”

“Maybe? But I can’t regret our past, it got us here in the end.” He said as he nuzzled her neck. He had a point, their path may have been messy, but it had got them here, together.

The moment was ruined when Fitz groaned as he caught sight of the time on the bedside clock “We really need to do some work today… I’m going to go shower, okay?” He said quietly as he untangled himself from her. She mumbled her acknowledgement as she faded back into sleep.

When she woke again the early morning light had shifted into daylight, a glance at the clock told her it was 13:07. Her hangover was still out in full force and mouth was once again painfully dry. On her bedside table was a glass of water with small half melted ice cubes, a cereal bar and a note from Fitz.

Jemma,

I figured you needed your sleep more than you need to be in the lab, so I’ve left you be. You looked beautiful sleeping. Make sure you drink enough water and if you’re feeling up to it there’s a cereal bar for you. Take it easy today, don’t worry about coming into the lab if you don’t feel up to it, I can make plenty of progress on the gloves for Skye.

And don’t worry, I’ve already checked in on Skye and will continue to over the day, she’s feeling equally crappy, but I’ve made sure she’s drinking plenty of water.

I love you,

Fitz x

There were few things Jemma Simmons hated as much as wasting a day, but with her head still pounding and her nausea refusing to let her stand for more than a few minutes, she accepted the day was lost. She drank the glass and refilled it but passed on the cereal bar. She went to the toilet and brushed her teeth again, the taste of death and alcohol having managed to find its way back to her mouth. And instead of joining Fitz in the lab she curled up on the bed and let sleep find her once again.

She woke again to the smell of food cooking and the sound of Fitz humming to himself. Finally, she felt something close to human. Once again, she downed the glass of water in front of her, Fitz must have replaced it as it once again had ice in it and condensation was clinging to the glass. Jemma wriggled her way out of the bed and headed to the bathroom for a much-needed shower now that the thumping in her head had ceased.

Stepping out of the shower, she felt refreshed and finally ready to face what was left of the day. When she left the bathroom Skye was also in the kitchen, sipping away at what she hoped was a decaffeinated coffee. “What are we having?” Jemma asked as she joined them at the counter.

“Mushroom risotto.” He said with a grin. “Coulson’s been in touch, said we’re getting some more groceries dropped off tomorrow, so I put in some requests, stuff I know we all like. You know I hadn’t realised how much I missed cooking until now, life on the Bus and at the Playground was too busy for a home cooked meal, I’m glad things are a bit slower here.”

“We should definitely try to make time for more cooking when we’re back at the Playground.” Skye said. “Who knew I was missing out on this one’s cooking for so long, why’d you never tell me he could cook?” Skye asked Jemma with faux irritation.

“You weren’t there for all the times we experimented and messed up.”

“Hey, we usually ended up with something salvageable at least.” Fitz interjected. “So who wants some wine?” Fitz said with as sly smile, shaking a bottle in front of Skye, earning him a light whack on the arm from Skye. Instead, Fitz put the wine bottle back, and poured out three glasses of water.

The evening continued on, energy much lower than the night before, but not without laughs being shared. “I was thinking, tomorrow we can try out your gloves? Just need your help finishing the failsafe code and then you can give your powers a go.” Fitz asked Skye.

“In theory the gloves should protect Skye’s body while allowing you to use your powers, and if our code works, will stop Skye’s powers if she loses control.” Fitz said, filling Jemma in on his progress. “The trick is getting the failsafe to kick in at the right moment, we need to give Skye time to regain control but not so long that if she can’t there’s any real damage.”

“Well that can be adjusted as we go.” Skye added. “But the important bit is that we can see if using my powers on my terms is a possibility.” Skye said, her tone a mix of excitement and apprehension. “Don’t worry, we’ll do it safely. You can be in charge of recording it all so it’s all scientific or whatever.” Skye said with a bright smile.

Jemma still wasn’t completely sold on the idea, it seemed needlessly dangerous, but it was Skye’s choice and Skye wasn’t making the decision lightly. So it was her job to make sure it was done as safely as possible, which was something she could definitely do.

They continued to plan out the rest of their work for the following day over dinner. With a good meal in them and a lot of water, Jemma and Skye were feeling more or less back to normal.

“Hey Fitz, we’ll clean up and you can go have a nice bath or something. As a thank you for looking after us and cooking for us.” Skye said with an innocuous grin. Fitz raised an eyebrow, knowing full well Skye wanted to press Jemma for details on their newfound relationship. But he was tired and Jemma could tell the idea of a nice bath and skipping two days of washing up appealed to him.

“Alright…” He said with a sigh. As he stood up from the table, he placed a gentle hand on her arm.

“Enjoy your bath.” Jemma said, a slight flutter of anxiety over what exactly Skye would want to know from her washed over her. And what would she say? She didn’t want to say anything that Fitz wouldn’t want her to.

“It’s okay, I trust you and I trust Skye.” Fitz thought to her as he tucked his chair into the table. “Enjoy your chinwag.” He said with a tired but soft smile as he went into the bathroom. She and Skye set about clearing the counter where they had eaten dinner. Skye waited until she could hear the sound of bath water running before talking.

“So, everything seems good?”

“We seem to finally be getting the hang of communicating, yeah.”

“I’ll admit, I totally brought monopoly over last night because I thought you’d invited me to dinner to be a buffer for the awkwardness. Glad that wasn’t the case though.” Skye said with a chuckle. Jemma gave her a slightly offended frown before breaking into a small smile.

“We talked, it was good. I’m not going to be bold enough to assume we’ve worked through everything, because the last few times I thought that I was proven wrong. But I do know we’re moving in the right direction. But the better things are the harder it is to remind myself that we agreed to take it slow whilst we work through everything.” Jemma said honestly.

“And how exactly will you know when you’ve worked through everything?” Skye asked with a raised eyebrow.

“That, I am not so sure about. I had hoped we’d just know but I’m not sure now…”

“Hmmm… yeah I don’t know either, you’re starting point for this relationship is pretty unique.” Skye said with a sympathetic smile. “But if things are good and seem to be staying good, then maybe then it’s time to take the dive?”

They continued to clean up after the meal, Jemma washing up and Skye drying and putting things back in the appropriate cupboard. Skye continued to press questions, like what it was like to kiss your soulmate, hearing and feeling their thoughts. She also happily set about planning date nights for them that they both knew wouldn’t come to fruition due to their S.H.I.E.L.D. duties.

Once the kitchen was clean and tidy, Skye hugged her goodbye before walking back to her cabin. Jemma let Fitz know Skye had left and passed on her goodbye to him, before changing into her nightwear and waited for Fitz to finish with his bath.

Fitz emerge from the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist and water dripping from his hair down onto his chest and back. Jemma was snuggled in bed reading Pride and Prejudice which she had selected from the cabins limited fiction library. “Bathrooms free.” Fitz announced. “How’d the chat with Skye go?”

“It was good, told her all about what a wonderful kisser you are.” She teased as she got off the bed and headed to the bathroom to ready herself for bed.

“Oh yeah?” Fitz smiled smugly, enjoying the joke. He came back into the bathroom once he had changed into his pyjamas. “You say anything else about me?”

“Only that you’re the most wonderful and handsome man I’ve ever had the pleasure to know.” She said as she prepared her toothbrush.

“Really now?” Fitz asked, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder while she brushed her teeth.

“Mmhmm.” She smiled around the toothbrush, completely at peace in his arms. “Skye was planning some date nights for us, they all sounded lovely, just a shame they aren’t really possible right now. I mean can you imagine the back log of work we’re going to have when we go back to the base?” Jemma said more seriously, she couldn’t help but mourn the fact that for as long as they worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. they would never be able to have a normal relationship.

“Hey, we can figure something out, and besides, when has any aspect of our lives been normal?”

“I know, and I do love working for S.H.I.E.L.D. and the work we do, but sometimes I wish… we could have something next to normal at least.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Fitz mumbled, he pressed gentle kisses against her neck while she finished brushing her teeth. He stepped back to let her brush her hair and wash her face, and then they both returned to the main room.

“Fitz?” Jemma asked, as foolish as it was, she felt anxious about what she had to ask.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry if this sounds silly, but… would you be my boyfriend?” She asked, hoping he would catch onto what she meant. That this was her going all in, showing him that she was ready. That she thought they had worked through enough of their issues to have a solid foundation. And that any other problems that arose, well they’d work through them together.

A sweet smile cracked across his face. “Only if you’ll be my girlfriend too?” He said softly, drawing close to her again.

It was stupid, after everything they’d been through, the shared kisses, discussions and the ‘I love you’s’, they both knew they were working towards this. But still, hearing him ask that sent butterflies to her stomach. A shy smile crossed her face as she nodded. “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

“And I’d love to be your boyfriend.” He whispered before kissing her sweetly.

They still had a lot of work to do, both at the cabin, working on Skye’s gloves and then when they returned to the base, which would surely not be too long away. And who knew what crises they had missed back at the Playground whilst away, but they would be able to tackle any problem together, as a couple.

“Do you reckon Coulson will be pissed he sent us away to work on Skye’s powers and we come back a couple?” Fitz asked, breaking the kiss off to hold her tight.

“I kind of think that might have been at least part of his plan when he sent us together.” Jemma said with a chuckle. “And anyway, we’ve been getting our work done too. So he can’t be too annoyed.”

“I’d expect nothing less from two genius prodigies.” Fitz grinned before supressing a yawn.

“I think we deserve a good solid night’s rest.” Jemma said, stifling her own yawn. “Shall we go to bed boyfriend?”

“We shall indeed girlfriend.” He said with a sleepy but cheesy smile. They settled into the bed, Fitz tightly wrapped around her. “I love you Jemma.”

“I love you too, Fitz.” Jemma said, nuzzling against his warm embrace. Whatever the future held, she was confident they would get through it together.