Work Text:
one;
Jemma couldn’t sleep.
The realisation had finally hit her. She had nearly died that day. She had sacrificed herself for her team, for Fitz, and thrown herself out of the Bus to save them all, yet it was them who had saved her. It was Fitz who had saved her. You’re the hero, she had told him, and she was right. He was a hero, even if he would never accept it.
Jemma climbed out of her bunk and wandered to the kitchen. Despite the darkness that seeped into the Bus, she found her way pretty easily; even if she did hit her leg on something on the way there. She flicked the light switch and ruffled through the cupboards, looking for the box of Earl Grey she knew was hidden somewhere. If she had organised the cupboards, it would be much easier to find, she thought to herself. However Fitz had a tendency to throw things in the nearest cupboard, thinking it constituted as putting things away. It did not.
“I thought you were under strict orders to sleep,” the devil himself scolded.
Jemma shrugged, “I couldn’t.”
Fitz gave a playful sigh before insisting to make the tea for Jemma. She protested, saying that she was perfectly capable of doing it herself, but in the end she allowed him to do this one thing for her. It’d been a hell of a day for them both.
He came over with two mugs and a small grin, and passed her the latter of the two before sitting beside her in her bunk. Jemma took a sip. Milk and two sugars, perfect. Fitz always knew how to make good tea.
Fitz didn’t need to ask Jemma why she was awake at this time, he already knew the answer and vice versa. It really had been a hell of a day.
“I thought I was going to lose you today,” he admitted as Jemma took another sip in an attempt to avoid eye contact. “When you jumped out of that plane -“
“I know,” Jemma replied quietly. “Me too.”
The words hit her just like the wind had done when she fell to what she thought was her imminent death and took the breath right from her. She really had nearly died. It had really happened.
Jemma hadn’t realised tears were staining her cheeks until Fitz had pulled her in close. Then she began to let everything go, sobbing in his arms whilst he comforted her; telling her that everything was okay. He brushed the hair out of her eyes and kissed the top of her head as she sobbed even more, holding onto him as tightly as she could. She didn’t want to ever have to let him go again. He was so much more to her than she had ever realised, and she hated the fact it took her almost death to realise that.
Jemma had sobbed for what had felt like an eternity, and she was well and truly exhausted. Fitz stayed with her that entire night, just holding her when she cried, and when she had finally stopped crying but was in no state to sleep. They didn’t talk much as there wasn’t much to say, but the fact that he was there with her – just like he had always been meant more to her than she could possibly say. What she would ever do without him, she had no idea.
Jemma hadn’t realised she’d fallen asleep until she awoke, still in Fitz’s arms. She didn’t know how long he’d been awake, or how long she’d been asleep for that matter, but he told her that he didn’t want to move her, especially after the day she’d just had. Jemma gave him a small smile, after thanking him and planting a kiss on his cheek. She left before she could see Fitz’s face turn a little redder.
two;
Fitz.
That was all Jemma could think about. Fitz. Oh god, Fitz.
She’d been released from the decompression chamber a few hours earlier, but Fury wouldn’t allow her to see Fitz just yet. He would tell her that his condition was still critical and that she should get some rest, but Jemma refused to sleep. Not until she had seen Fitz, she said.
Jemma’s mind was racing faster than it ever had, and like when she had jumped out of the Bus to save her friends, she couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.
They’d been at the bottom of the ocean, she remembered. Ward had trapped them in the bottom of the ocean and she had thought they were done for. But they did what they always did, they persevered and they came up with a solution. They were both going to be getting out alive and they were going to be okay, she had naively thought. They would live to fight another day. Jemma had never considered that things would end up like they had.
Fitz loved her. That was he had said, maybe not in those words exactly, but that was what he implied. He had been in love with her and she had had no idea. The next thing she had known was that he was giving her the last breath and trading his life so that she could live.
Of course she wasn’t going to leave him. That was ridiculous. She was going to be by his side just like he had always been by hers. She wasn’t just going to sit idly by and watch her best friend die. Die for her, she thought. She would never let him.
Jemma had dragged him the ninety feet or so, clinging desperately onto the breath he had given her, hoping that there was some way they would be found and that they could both live. Fortunately, Fury had saved them from the water thanks to Fitz and his wits. Fury told her that she may have saved Fitz’s life by doing what she did, but she corrected him in saying it was the other way around. Fitz was the real hero.
When they finally let her see him, her heart stopped in her chest. She couldn’t quite believe it was him lying there, it had to be some sort of mistake. She was assured it wasn’t.
The heart monitor was monotonous and each new beep sent a shudder of relief through Jemma. She felt herself shaking ever so slightly as she advanced towards him, knowing that reality was hitting her right in the face. All she could think about was how pale he looked, and how still he was. It didn’t look like him at all.
A ventilator tube had been shoved down his throat and wires had been stuck all over his body. Jemma thought he looked more like a specimen than her best friend. However, a specimen’s chest didn’t rise and fall, and Jemma was thankful that she could see one sign of life within Fitz.
Jemma’s advance towards Fitz was tentative, and when she finally approached him she wasn’t expecting his hand to be so cold. She half expected his hand to grasp her own, and that she would have some reassurance that he would be okay, but she knew she was only kidding herself.
The tears rolled down her face in small streams, landing in Fitz’s hair as she kissed his forehead. She didn’t ask him to do it, and she didn’t want him to do it either. He just did it anyway. Jemma wanted to shout at him and tell him how much of a reckless idiot he had been and how he couldn’t just put her in that situation, but on the other hand she just wanted to hold him in her arms and never let him go. She didn’t know really what she was supposed to do.
Jemma moved to sit in the chair beside Fitz, watching his chest rise and fall, rise and fall. She refused to let go of his lifeless hand, hoping that and any moment Fitz would bring himself out of his coma and grip her hand back. Jemma knew how unlikely that would be, but she still hoped even if it was naïve and futile. Jemma fell asleep by his side, still clinging onto that hope with everything she had.
three;
The weight of Coulson’s proposal felt heavy in Jemma’s chest. It still hadn’t properly sunk in yet. Hydra, she thought. Undercover, in Hydra? The words left a bitter taste in her mouth.
If Coulson had asked her a month or so earlier, her answer would’ve been a straight out no. She couldn’t do that. Not only was she not ready, she wouldn’t want to leave the team behind. Plus, she was a terrible liar. That was the only thing that hadn’t changed.
Jemma lay awake in her bunk, letting the words race round and round in her head over and over and over again. Earlier that day, she had been with Fitz in the lab watching him as tried to make sense of things that wouldn’t normally have to think about. He looked lost as he wondered around, tinkering with bits and pieces before throwing them on the desk in frustration when he couldn’t figure out what to do.
She had told him to be patient, that it would all come to him in a matter of time but he wouldn’t listen. He would just shout and her in frustration and refuse to let her help. Sometimes, Jemma thought he was blaming her for what happened. Of course it was ridiculous to think that way, but sometimes it just made sense.
So when Coulson approached her with the offer on an undercover mission in Hydra, she didn’t immediately turn it down. She would be kidding herself if she didn’t admit she was miserable, because she was. Jemma hated how things had become after she and Fitz had emerged from the pod. She had sat beside Fitz for what only could be described as the nine longest days of her life and when his coma finally broke, she would never be able to forget how he could speak. He just stared at her, at a loss for words. His faces contorted into shades of frustration and confusion and it broke her.
Since then, things only got worse. Fitz had to relearn everything, but it wasn’t going as quickly as he would like. He got angrier, more frustrated and Jemma understood that. She would be angry too.
What Jemma didn’t understand is why when she was around, everything Fitz would learn would somehow reverse. His stutter would become more prominent, his words became much more confused and yet when she wasn’t around (or when Fitz didn’t know she was around) everything was just that little bit better. He looked like he actually might recover after all.
The others liked to think they didn’t see it, but they did. Jemma would walk into a room and the atmosphere would completely change, especially when Fitz was there. He seemed so much better with the others and it broke her. There was a time when, as Skye would put it, they were psychically linked. They worked best with each other, and were almost inseparable. Jemma began to doubt if they would ever go back to being like that again.
She reached for the tea on her bedside table and took a sip. It had gone cold.
Jemma sighed as she set the mug back down again, not attempting to drink any more. At the end of the day, she wanted Fitz to be happy, to get better. A sob was caught in her throat when she realised that in order for that to happen, she had to leave. She couldn’t be around him anymore.
Jemma decided she was going to tell Coulson in the morning and go undercover. Maybe it’d do them both some good. Plus, it could get some valuable intel they’d need. However, an uneasy feeling circled around Jemma’s stomach. She fell asleep wondering how on earth she was going to break the news to Fitz.
four;
Jemma didn’t get much sleep for the first few days she was undercover. Worries plagued her too much. She would often lie awake and evaluate the day’s events, hoping that she never gave away her true intentions and that her lying skills had drastically improved since her incident at the Hub.
Working for Hydra had formed a permanent knot in her stomach, making her feel more anxious and constricted than she would like. Hydra was the enemy, the bad guys. The ones who had betrayed her and sent her and Fitz to their deaths. Though they may have escaped, things weren’t ever going to be the same for them again. The knot in her stomach pulled a little tighter.
Jemma worried about Fitz every day. Was he taking his medication? Was his physical therapy going well? Was he doing okay without her? Tears prickled in the back of her eyes when she realised of course he was. She wasn’t there to make him worse. Jemma let out a small sob.
Pulling her covers around her a little tighter, she imagined the countless times Fitz had held her when she cried. He had always made her feel a little safer. No, he wasn’t exactly gifted when it came to fighting or field work, but he was Fitz. He was her Fitz, and he was the only one who could make her feel safe.
But the Fitz that came out of that pod wasn’t her Fitz. The Fitz that came out of the pod was broken and defeated. He lost his temper much easier than he used to and his patience wore thin whenever he tried to do something he used to be able to do with such ease. She couldn’t bear to see him like that anymore, especially when she was the only thing making him worse.
Jemma fell asleep with tears staining her cheeks, hoping that one day that she would get her best friend back, and that maybe he would hold her in his arms again.
five;
Being at the Playground almost made Jemma miss being undercover. At least when she was undercover, she was alone and she didn’t have to face up to the reality of what had happened. Yet when she was at the Playground, reality was all she ever saw. Whenever she looked at Fitz, how he had lost his playful smile and his quirky confidence, and how he could barely string a sentence together when she was around, it felt like the water was rushing in all over again. It hurt more when she saw him with Mack, and how he gained some of what he used to be yet when he so much as looked at her, it was like he was a deer lost in headlights. Jemma would always leave the room quickly so he wouldn’t see her cry.
Jemma often found that sleep would escape her, so just like she used to, she would slip out of bed and make her way to the kitchen to make herself some tea.
Sometimes Skye would be there, working late on her laptop or Hunter would be there stealing biscuits from the tin, knowing that it would annoy Koenig in the morning when he would find out all the digestives were be gone. If Skye was there, she would often be relived since she could always talk to Skye, even if things were still slightly awkward between them. If Hunter was there, she would often greet him with a small smile and go about her business whilst he sat on the counter and ate all the digestives he could find. However, if Skye or Hunter wasn’t there, it was usually Fitz and she couldn’t bare seeing him. But this time, her luck was out and there he was, staring at her.
“I-I-um,” he began. “I’ll go.”
She gave a small sigh, “Stay if you want to. I’m only going to make some tea.”
Fitz stared at her for a second before turning to sit down. He didn’t insist on making her tea for her this time.
Jemma’s usually frustrating rummage through the cupboards ended much more abruptly than she would’ve liked as she found the Earl Grey in its rightful spot. The knot in her stomach tightened.
Jemma didn’t glance back at Fitz, she didn’t allow herself to. Instead, she focused on what she was doing – despite the fact she really didn’t need to – and left the kitchen as quickly as she could without a second glance. She completely ignored Koenig’s ‘no drinks in bunks’ policy and took it with her, setting it on her bedside before she sat on the edge of her bed and allowed the tears to run down her cheeks.
She didn’t sob this time, she didn’t have the energy for that, but she felt as if the breath had been knocked right out of her. There was a time when Fitz was the only person would could make her smile, now he could reduce her to tears with a glance.
Her tea didn’t taste as good as it usually did, but that was because Fitz usually made it for her, she realised. He could always make it just how she liked it.
After finishing her drink, she curled up in bed just like she used to do when she was undercover. Jemma had been lonely then, but it was nothing compared to this. This was pure hell and she didn’t know if she could take it anymore, but she knew she had too. She pulled her knees a little closer to her chest and closed her eyes, hoping that sleep would take away the worst feeling she had ever felt; loneliness.