Work Text:
Grant Ward has been in some tough situations before. And he’s always gotten through them. So an armed assailant chasing through an Ecuadorian rainforest as he attempts to get back to the bus doesn’t really shake him, even if May is too busy in the cockpit, preparing to maneuver them out of the trees, to cover him.
Bang.
Thud.
But he didn’t expect that. He glances back as the brawny man behind him falls forward, his gun falling from his hand. Grant refocuses on the plane’s cargo ramp, where someone is standing. She’s small and too pale to be Skye. Jemma Simmons. As he gets closer he notices that she’s not moving, just staring straight ahead at the man she just shot. The gun lies farther down the ramp, where it must have slid after she dropped it.
He rushes up the ramp, herding her in front of him so that Melinda can close the ramp and get going. She’s silent and still staring off into nothing, like she’s completely oblivious to her surroundings. He recognizes the look.
“Keep moving. You can vomit in two minutes when we’re airborne.”
He gets her inside, but she collapses onto the first bench the pass. Fitz is turning around the corner, clearly he’s just realized Jemma is not in the lab where she should have been. Concern is etched on his face as he kneels down to joing Grant on the other side of her.
“What happened?”
Fitz’s voice seems to snap her out of it. Her own is quiet and shaky, but she responds.
“I shot someone. With a real gun, not the Night Night gun. He’s dead. I’ll be fine. I’m just a bit shocked. I didn’t think it would be that easy. Just a flick of my finger and he was down.”
Jemma leans on the two men a bit as she pushes herself up off the bench. Skye and Coulson enter the room, her in a blind panic and him as calm as ever.
“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” Skye asks, grabbing Jemma by the shoulders as if to make sure she’s still in one peace.
“Maybe some crackers to settle my stomach and then just a nap.” She pauses. “On second thought, no food,” she mutters that last part as she tears off down to the hall to the nearest bathroom. After a quick glance, Skye follows her. They’re close enough that Grant can faintly hear what must be Jemma retching, and Skye murmuring softly to comfort her.
“She failed her shooting tests. I’m surprised she hit him and not you.” If Coulson is trying to lighten the mood, it falls flat.
After a while he hears two sets of footsteps head down the hall towards the bunks. A couple minutes later Skye reappears.
“She was asleep before she her head hit the pillow. I found some blankets to cover. I think she’ll be out for a while.”
Dinner a couple of hours later is subdued. Fitz asks Jemma if she wants to join them, but she declines and falls back asleep. Despite everyone’s minds clearly being on her, no one brings it up.
______________________
It’s after 2 AM when Ward hears something coming from the bathroom down the hall. Fitz and Skye called it a night hours ago, each checking on Jemma beforehand. They’re not going to make it to The Hub to hand off their cargo to some sort of ancient languages expert for at least another 12 hours, so has put the plane on auto-pilot and is catching up on sleep, too. Coulson is probably still in his office, but Ward can never hear any noise leaking out unless he stands by the door. That leaves one person.
Grant finds himself in front of the bathroom door before he really registers that he’s left his room. With his ear against the door he can just make out the sobs she’s trying shove down, most of them successfully drowned out by the sound of the shower. He knocks twice quietly, then asks.
“You okay?”
“What? Yes. Fine. Didn’t realize anyone was up.” She manages to mask her crying until the last word.
“Can I come in?”
As soon as the words leave his mouth, he realizes what a strange request that is. She’s in the shower. She’s probably naked.
She doesn’t respond, but he can hear heaving, and that’s enough to worry him into action. His eyes are glued to the floor as he enters, hoping to spare her any additional embarrassment if she does happen to be naked. But she’s fully dressed. And sitting on the shower floor, directly under the spray. He can tell she’s still crying from the way her shoulders shake, but her head is currently buried between her knees. Her arms are wrapped so tightly around her legs that her fingers have turned white where they latch onto each other. She looks decimated.
Slowly, so as not to scare her, he pushes open the glass shower door and sits down next to her. She instantly falls against him, and her entire body is shaking. He reaches above his head to turn the tap and make the water warmer. It’s a bit hotter than he’d prefer, but he’s more concerned with how she’s feeling.
He wraps his right arm around her and pulls her even closer to him, and her shivering abates the tiniest bit. He considers telling her that he knows it will be okay. He considers telling her that the first time he shot someone, nearly a decade ago, he threw up in front of twenty other soldiers. But that’s not what she needs right now. And he desperately wants to be what she needs.
So they sit there, as she slowly stops crying, stops shaking like she’s going to vibrate out of her skin. She lifts her head, smiling at him in gratitude before resting it on his shoulder. When the water runs cold he gently steers her to her room so that she can change into dry clothes, while he returns to his to do the same. Then he returns, gathering her up in his arms and climbing into her bed. He pulls her comforter and all of Skye’s extra blankets over them and turns of the light. They both lie there in silence until she falls asleep. He promises himself that, in the morning, he’ll tell her that it gets easier. And he’ll listen to her if she wants to talk about it. And then he falls asleep too, surprising even himself with how natural it feels to fall asleep next to her.
In the morning, when Skye goes to check on Jemma, she’s surprised to find a second person in her bed. As quietly as possible, she backs out of the room, gently closing the door behind her. Then she shoos a confused Fitz down the hall, promising him that Jemma looked fine and she’ll come down for breakfast when she’s ready. She makes no mention of what she saw.