Work Text:
Jemma has always been fond of Fitz. She wasn't sure if it had anything to do with her honesty towards him. He had been so accepting of her diagnoses even before she told him. He had assumed she was autistic and treated her like a normal human being instead of a child. So here they were, waiting to meet the SHIELD team they had both applied for.
Agent Coulson meets them at the HUB along with a scary woman who identifies herself as Agent May. Jemma has heard of that name before, but cannot seem to place where. She hears the three's conversing suddenly stop. The pair is looking expectantly at her and Jemma realizes that she has zoned out.
"Terribly sorry to ask, but could you repeat the question?"
Coulson and May share a quick glance. With a soft smile on his face, Coulson says, "We are very happy to have you Jemma. I believe you will be a great asset for our team."
Jemma blushes a bit and starts fiddling with the hem of her skirt. She has never quite understood how to answer to compliments, so she just stands there with her eyes trained to the floor. She feels Fitz nudge her. She forces her eyes to meet Agent Coulson's and mumbles a quiet "Thank you sir."
Unbeknownst to her, May gives Fitz a questioning look. He ignores her.
Coulson clears his throat. "I think that will be all. The Bus is parked inside the hangar. Feel free to go and get settled in."
When Coulson and May walk off, Jemma releases a breath she didn't know she had been holding.
"Jems are you alright?" Fitz asks softly.
"Of course Fitz, why wouldn't I be?"
"Well you've hardly said a word to Coulson and I don't think you even looked at May."
"I'm sorry. You know how I am with new people."
"I do. You will get used to them soon." He pauses. "Do they know?" He almost whispers.
"No! And you will not tell them. I do not need anyone here to think I cannot do my job. You saw what happened at the Academy."
"Jemma these are adults. Nothing like the mean kids from the Academy. I won't force you to do anything you do not want to, but I think you should tell them. The Dean was kind enough not to put it in your file, but-
"-But nothing!! Just do this one thing for me. Please Fitz." Jemma looks almost in tears.
"Fine, but if they ask me I will not lie to them."
Jemma calms almost immediately after the words leave his mouth.
—————————————————————————
Jemma sorts her clothes into her drawers the same way she did when she moved into the Academy. Change has never been easy for her, but if she can manipulate her routine to fit her new surroundings, maybe it will be easier to handle.
Her wardrobe mainly consists of sweater vests and ties. She loves the pressure of a tie around her neck. It helps her to focus. And as for the sweaters, they are soft and do not hurt her skin as much to wear them.
She was humming. It was an auditory stim that she occasionally allowed herself indulge in, only for the reason it could pass as "normal" behavior. A deep male voice causes her to freeze in her tracks.
"Whatcha humming pretty thing?"
Jemma was afraid to turn around. That definitely wasn't Fitz. She fought the urge to yelp when she felt hands on her waist. She hated touch.
"Aren't you going to answer me?" the voice sounded slightly irritated. Jemma hated it when people were angry with her.
"I-I umm I was j-just" She stopped. The hands that were on her waist moved up above her stomach and were now touching her lady parts. No one has ever touched there before. She squirmed trying to wiggle out of his embrace. That only made things worse. He pushed his front to her back and now had her trapped.
"You like that don't you? I knew you would." The man says. His words jumbling together as Simmons nears a meltdown. She starts to cry. Her body us on fire. She feels everything a little too much. Every word he says causes her ears to ache. She screws her eyes shut because the lights are suddenly entirely too bright and-
"WARD!!"
Her hands betray her and shoot to cover her ears. The sound causes her to drop the floor. Jemma doesn't even know what is happening when she feels more hands on her, this time on her arm. She lets out a squeal and the hands quickly release her. Someone is speaking to her, but the words do not reach her. All she hears is noise, too much noise. She's rocking and humming, but she doesn't realize it. Too loud. Too loud. TOO LOUD.
The lights are switched off and the door is shut, blocking out the screaming match happening outside her bunk. She relaxes slightly but does not open her eyes nor remove her hands from her ears.
After a little while, the humming quiets down and the rocking ceases. She gently removes her hands and squints her eyes. It's dark. Then, she notices a figure in the room with her. Her heart sinks and she scrambles to escape. She doesn't want him to touch her again. It felt bad, very bad. Bad. Bad. Bad.
This person, however, is not a man. It's a woman. The same woman who introduced herself as Melinda May a few hours before. Jemma doesn't make eye contact. The woman appears to be speaking to her.
"-emma. Can you hear me?"
Jemma only nods. She doesn't trust her voice enough to speak just yet.
"Okay good. Are you alright?"
She feels her head shake before she tells it to. She is definitely not alright.
"What do you need? Is there anything I can do to help you? Jemma ponders the question before signing: "Do you know ASL?"
The woman gives Jemma a sweet smiles and signs back "Yes." It is then that Jemma meets her gaze, but quickly looks back to the floor.
May signs to her, "What do you need?"
Jemma watches as her hands create the words. She isn't sure what she needs. Pressure. The word pops into her head.
"Pressure" She signs back. May only nods as she comes closer to the girl. Jemma slightly panics before allowing herself to be hugged. The hug is perfect, tight but not too tight. She melts into the embrace and finds herself speaking. She repeats the word "sorry" over and over again. Of course her echolalia would show up now. May doesn't seem phased though and starts to rock her. It's a little bit later when Jemma finally speaks.
"I promise I can be better. This will not happen again," Jemma mumbles, tears streaming down her face. She doesn't want her new team to be mad at her for acting like a baby.
"Hey hey, none of that. This was not your fault. You have nothing to be sorry about." Jemma falters at her words. Her sleeve comes up to her mouth as she tries to self regulate. The fabric feels good to chew on. She whines when May tugs it out of her mouth.
"Where are your chewies?" May asks her. "I'm sure you don't want to get your sweater all wet.
Jemma just shrugs. She doesn't have any chewies. She told herself that she couldn't have them or anything else sensory related. She could handle just fine without them. "I don't have any"
May looks at her sadly. With all of the apologizing, she has an idea of why she doesn't own chewies. She shoots Coulson a quick text. He appears within a few minutes with a box of items from storage. She takes out a small feather chew and offers it to Jemma.
Jemma looks at the offered item. She contemplates taking it, but doesn't want to seem needy. Melinda senses this and takes action.
"Go ahead. It has never been used, so you can have it." She gives her an encouraging smile. Jemma take it and places it in her mouth. The relief is instantaneous and she hums in appreciation.
May allows Jemma to get comfortable. She knows it will be difficult on the girl to talk about all of this later.