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Hope was a funny thing. It could be ignited with a simple word and extinguished just as quickly.
Jemma had learned that lesson firsthand. When Mack had walked off of the quinjet covered in blood and cradling Fitz’s cold, lifeless body, hopelessness enveloped her and threatened to swallow her whole. It was a dark abyss that she likely never would have climbed out from had it not been for Robin Hinton.
The little girl had found her sitting on the floor of the makeshift lab she and Fitz had set up in the Lighthouse. It was in shambles, thanks to her. In a grief-filled rage, she had thrown beakers, smashed prototypes and strewn files across the room, as she railed against the the universe for taking Fitz from her. Under normal circumstances, seeing her lab in such a state would have driven Jemma mad, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Without Fitz, what did it matter? Science had failed her anyway.
But then Robin tugged on her sleeve and slipped a piece of cardstock into her hand. Looking down, it was the postcard Fitz had left with the girl before cryogenically freezing himself. It was in a much better state than when Jemma had found it in the future, with no rips or creases marring the photo of the Lighthouse. Flipping it over, she traced Fitz’s words with her fingertips reverently, a single tear streaming down her cheek.
Then Robin cryptically said, “He’s waiting for you.”
Before Jemma could probe her further, Robin silently retreated from the lab. The Inhuman had what she had came to do, passing along her message and giving Jemma the push she needed to put the puzzle pieces together.
While the Fitz that had taken the long way to the future, the one that had helped save the world, the one that she had married, was dead, there was still a version of him that was alive, frozen out in deep space. All she had to do was find him. Suddenly, Jemma had a clear mission, a problem to solve.
It was what had fueled her for the last year. An unshakeable belief that Fitz was out there somewhere and she would bring him home, no matter the cost.
Her faith had never wavered.
Not when the Zephyr’s first space jump had gone sideways and left them dead in the water for days.
Not when they had had their first run-in the Confederacy and had barely escaped with their lives.
Not even when they had finally tracked the location of Enoch’s ship, only to find that it had been sliced in half, with no trace of Fitz or the Chronicom on the wreckage.
Admittedly, that day had been hard. To have come so close, only to come up empty handed was a bitter pill to swallow. But with no body, Jemma was able to cling to the belief that he had somehow escaped. She could see in Mack’s eyes that he didn’t share her optimism, so she wasn't surprised when a few days later, he declared it was time to go home. But she refused to give up that easily and fought hard to stay on mission. In the end, the newly-minted director relented and agreed to let her continue her search for Fitz with a skeleton crew of Davis, Piper and Daisy.
And so she found herself criss-crossing the galaxy, tracking down every supplier that had come in contact with Enoch and his ship. For months, the four of them chased down leads to distant planets and space stations, hoping for any scrap of information that would point them in direction of Fitz. In their wake, they often left dead bodies and destruction, helping Daisy to earn a reputation that almost rivaled that of Destroyer of Worlds and their team to earn plenty of enemies.
As time dragged on and their leads dwindled, Jemma could feel the atmosphere in the Zephyr change. The stress and anxiety of being in constant danger, so far from home was wearing on all of their nerves. She could tell Davis and Piper (and even Daisy at times) questioned what they were still doing out here, if they would ever find Fitz, if he was even still alive. But not Jemma. She remained steadfast and singularly focused on her mission.
Finally, finally her faith had been rewarded when the alien she and Daisy were interrogating revealed that he had bought the other half of the wreckage. Not only that, it was right here on this wasteland of a planet. It was their biggest break in months, and more than she had dared hoped for when she had tracked down the fuel supplier. A tangible connection to Fitz (maybe even Fitz himself) was within her grasp.
Naturally, she was the first one to repel down into the wreckage. Her eyes darted around, surveying the scene and looking for any sign of Fitz, as she and the team crept along the abandoned corridors of the broken spacecraft.
Davis called out, indicating that he had found something. Entering the room, she saw it. A cryochamber, intact and seemingly undamaged.
Hope crackled in the air as she approached the cryochamber. Her pulse racing, Jemma cast a quick glance at Daisy and pulled in a shaky breath, before opening the chamber.
It was empty.
And just like that, all the hope was sucked out of the room and everyone visibly deflated.
At least it isn’t a dead body. No, but it is a dead end.
Piper and Davis’ words played on a continuous loop inside her head, as she once more approached the cryochamber. Ostensibly, they had brought it on board the Zephyr to investigate further, but in actuality, Jemma thought of it as a tether to her mission, to Fitz.
At least it isn’t a dead body.
Jemma clung to this truth like a lifeline. If Fitz had died when the ship was attacked and he was still in stasis, she would have found his lifeless body in the chamber. The fact that he wasn’t there meant that he at least survived the initial crash-- and that was something. It meant that Fitz was awake and probably out there somewhere, working this problem as well, which brought her comfort.
But it is a dead end.
This was the part she was stuck on. She didn’t know where to go from here. She had no more leads to track down, no more moves to make. All she knew was that she couldn’t give up.
She splayed her hand on top of the chamber, trying to draw strength from its cold metal. Suddenly, an overwhelming urge to climb into the box came over her. She wanted to feel close to Fitz and experience what he might have felt when he locked himself in, prepared to spend the next 74 years asleep just to find his way back to her.
She opened the lid and laid down, staring up at the ceiling through the thick-walled glass. Had he been scared when he had been jolted out of his slumber? It must have been disorienting, and glancing at the bloody streaks, he had clearly been injured.
A single tear rolled down her cheek. What if he hadn’t made it? What if the injuries he had sustained had killed him? What if he had died, alone and confused? The dark thoughts plagued her and threatened to drag her back into the pit of despair. Jemma knew she couldn’t survive losing Fitz twice.
Swiping at her face to dry her tears, she caught sight of a small metal placard. Brushing off the dust to reveal alien script, she ran her fingers over the words, slowly translating and processing their meaning. Bolting upright, she knew where Fitz would have gone. She leapt out of the chamber and excitedly took off to tell the team that they had a new trail to follow.
She animatedly showed them what she had found in the chamber and how it meant they needed to follow this clue to this planet, Nara-Atzia.
The team looked at each other skeptically, clearly unimpressed with the new lead she had provided.
They didn’t understand Fitz like she did, how his mind works. He had no idea that the Earth was still intact, so his first priority would have been to find a way to get back in stasis, to get back to her. This is where he would have gone, she was sure of it.
Then Daisy started talking about how they needed to go back to Earth and regroup, that it was tactically the smart decision.
Home? No. She couldn’t go home, not without Fitz. This wasn’t about logic and tactics, this was about family and love.
Desperation clawed at her chest. She had to make them understand that going home wasn’t an option. They had to follow this lead. Tensions were running high and they all started lashing out.
Before the argument could escalate further, the proximity warning went off, indicating a Confederacy ship was nearby. They sprung into action, cutting the Zephyr’s power to stay under the radar. If they were lucky, they would stay undetected.
Of course, that would have required them to actually have luck on their side. So Jemma was unsurprised when the Confederacy eventually detected their ship and opened fire.
In the chaos, Jemma seized the opportunity to lay in the coordinates to the planet where the cryochamber had been manufactured.
“Enter the coordinates for Earth,” Daisy ordered. “Let’s get out of here.”
Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. Jemma replied resolutely, “The coordinates are already locked in.”
The pair locked eyes, having a silent conversation.
Daisy looked at her, aghast, “Simmons, no.”
Jemma softened briefly, hesitating ever-so-slightly, before steely determination set back in.
Jemma knew Daisy and the team were going to be angry with her. She knew that she was putting their lives in jeopardy. But she also knew that she couldn’t, wouldn’t give up on Fitz or ever stop searching for him. He had done the same for her once, taking a leap and diving through a hole in the universe for her. Now it was her turn. She would find him and bring him home, because the alternative was unthinkable.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice just above a whisper.
Hope and desperation fueling her, she pushed the lever forward and made the space jump, one step closer to Fitz and a thousand more lightyears from home.
She had just essentially kidnapped her friends, dragging them along unwillingly on her mission. While intellectually she knew what she had just done was wrong, she couldn’t bring herself to care.
Whatever it takes, right?