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Jemma used to call him Leo. At work, to be professional, he was always Fitz. Even around their close friends he was still Fitz. He was only Leo to her and his mom, because he was embarrassed of the name.
Fitz didn’t mind the way they said it though: filled with warmth and affection, smiling at him with love in their eyes. He hated the way Ophelia and his father called him Leopold. The name fell from their lips like a slap, like something heavy and harsh and meant to be addressing a man stronger than him.
Jemma didn’t call him Leo in the Framework, or after he first came out. It was supposed to be something soft and intimate and private, meant only for them. When she saw how he flinched at AIDA calling him Leopold, Jemma decided that she shouldn't call him Leo anymore, at least for now. She didn’t want to trigger more painful memories for him.
She also noticed him becoming less tactile — he used to be the one who would grab her hand when they were walking or throw an arm around her shoulders while they were sitting on the couch or pull her into his arms at night. Instead of reaching out, Jemma tried to respect his wishes and give him space, assuming that her touching him probably reminded him too much of AIDA touching him, when really she wanted nothing more than to bury her face in his neck and hug him tight enough to convince her that he was still there. She didn’t know that he just thought he was unworthy of her touch and her love, thought he didn’t deserve comfort when Ophelia’s touches still felt branded into his skin. She refused to let him sleep on the couch, though. Even if he wanted to lay on his back, not touching or looking at her, she still wanted him next to her. Jemma always slept better with him there.
One night, Jemma awoke to Fitz writhing around, calling out her name, tears leaking out of his closed eyelids. Without thinking, she rolled onto her side and moved closer to him, until she was pressed flush against his side, throwing one of her legs between his, touching as much of him as possible now that she was letting herself indulge. She used one arm to prop herself up so she could look at him, her chest still pressed firmly against his side, and threw her other arm around him, like she was trying to physically shield his body from the nightmare. Soothing reassurances tumbled out of her mouth without a thought, trying to wake him from whatever memory he was trapped in, hoping to make him feel safe. When his eyes finally opened, she moved the arm that was wrapped around him up to his face, softly cupping his face, rubbing her thumb soothingly against his cheek. Fitz was so tired, and too weak to deny himself what he really wanted out of guilt for what he’d done. He rolled onto his side so she could wrap her arms around him better, letting his head rest against her chest, listening to her heartbeat and letting it calm him, reminding him that she was okay. As he let himself cry, Jemma ran one of her hands through his hair the way she knew he liked, and traced soothing circles on his back with the other, feeling him melt into her touch.
When he finally stopped crying, he moved up a bit so he could look her in the eye.
“You called me Leo.” That was not what Jemma was expecting him to say.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I was just rambling, trying to remind you that you were okay, that probably didn’t help though, I’m sorry I reminded you of her, I will be more care—”
“What?” Fitz interrupted, having no idea what she was talking about.
“AIDA. And your father too. They called you Leopold and I don’t want to remind you of them.” His heart broke all over again at the guilt on her face, the single tear that escaped and trailed down her face.
“I was dreaming that all of that, all the awful things I said to you in there, happened in the real world and I couldn’t stop myself and I was about to kill you and—” He stopped to take a breath, needing to get this all out without dissolving into tears that would make his words incomprehensible. “You mean everything to me Jemma and I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry and I woke up and you were holding me and I don’t deserve that, not anymore.” He wasn’t articulating it perfectly, but understanding shot through Jemma. She had two PhDs and had been his best friend for over a decade — she knew how his mind worked.
“Where did AIDA used to touch you when you cuddled, in the Framework?”
“What?!” Fitz had no idea where she was going with this.
“Just answer the question; you’ll see.”
Rather than using words, he gently turned her over so she was on her side facing away from him, and wrapped his arms around her from behind. Jemma let herself take a moment to enjoy the feeling of being in his arms again before she spoke again.
“You mean everything to me too, Leo. This is not the Framework; this is the real world, and you chose me here. It doesn’t matter if you have the capacity to do bad things; it matters that you’re choosing to be good. The guilt you’re feeling? Ward never felt that. He always had some kind twisted justification that made sense only to him, so he never drowned in guilt or truly regretted all that he’d done. He had the opportunity to change, after he escaped us, but instead he decided to reboot Hydra. You are better than Ward, because you’re choosing to be good. It doesn’t erase what happened, but I don’t blame you. I know you’ll understand that someday.” Jemma pauses, taking a breath and feeling one of Fitz’s thumbs come up to softly wipe away tears she hadn’t even noticed falling. “I want to remind you that this is real. I was trying to give you space, but I get it now. I want to touch you exactly like she did, so you can replace those memories with better ones. You aren’t The Doctor in the real world; you’re my Leo and I love you.”
She turned around and kissed him softly. She tried to stay where he positioned her, but right now she wanted to look into his eyes. He shook his head slightly in disbelief, a slight laugh passing through his lips.
“Are you...claiming me? Marking your territory?” Jemma grinned at the laughter she saw twinkling in his eyes, her heart swelling with love.
“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” she said, kissing him again and climbing on top of him so she was straddling him. “You’re my Leo and this is the real world and I won’t let anyone take this from us.”
As she kissed him again, her whole body pressed against him and her hands roaming around, Fitz felt the vise around his heart begin to loosen a little from the force of his love for this brilliant and beautiful woman in front of him. She somehow knew what he needed before he could find the words for it — maybe they were psychically linked, after all. Every time the memory of his father or AIDA calling him Leopold flashed before his eyes, he could push it away with the memory of the love written all over Jemma’s face as she called him her Leo. The memory of another woman’s hands on his body and the guilt that came with it began to fade a bit under Jemma’s hands. It would take time, but he was starting to believe that he could be okay again one day.
“This possessiveness is kinda hot, not gonna lie.” He was aiming for teasing, but the way her eyes darkened at his words made blood rush south.
“That’s good, because you’re my Leo, and I don’t intend to let you forget it.” She matched his teasing tone, but her slightly predatory smile had all thoughts of joking around rushing from his mind.
———
In the morning, Fitz awoke to Jemma wrapped around him like a monkey, smiling sleepily at him. When he started to move away, her arms tightened stubbornly, keeping him in place.
“I meant everything I said last night, Leo. I love you, who you choose to be, and I’m not going anywhere.” He pressed a soft kiss on her lips in acknowledgment, not yet believing that he deserved any of this, but hoping he could someday. “Jemma, I love you, but I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Oh,” she said, giggling lightly. “Come right back afterwards?”
“Always.”