Chapter Text
[JEMMA]
It was too quiet.
It was too quiet, and Jemma was afraid.
Fitz's thigh was warm under her cheek. Her stomach tied itself in an anxious knot, and her bladder throbbed uncomfortably. Her mind raced, eyes flickering about the room, searching desperately for some unseen threat.
Jemma knew she was far too old to be afraid of the dark, to jump at shadows, but she couldn't help herself. As drained and exhausted as she was, she couldn't relax enough to go back to sleep.
She was being irrational, she knew, but that knowledge did nothing to help quell the fear that clenched like an icy fist around her heart. She felt small and afraid, and she couldn't close her eyes without feeling the sting of wind-driven sand on her face, or seeing flashes of bright, sharp teeth.
Jemma stumbled on shaky legs into the bathroom to splash cold water on her face and respond to the protests of her bladder; after three months of squatting in the dirt when she needed to relieve herself, using an actual toilet seemed almost foreign. It was scary too, she'd almost fallen and hit her head trying to sit down on it--her legs were even weaker than she anticipated. She at least had enough civility to wash her hands when she'd finished.
She couldn't bear the thought of sleep, even though her body was shutting down anyway. Jemma dragged herself to the kitchen to make some tea; she wasn't sure why--but her gut told her that it would probably help to ease her anxiety. She had to prop herself up against the wall, because her legs wouldn't fully support her, and she thought that Bobbi would probably be very cross with her for getting out of bed.
She leaned against the counter when she finally arrived at her destination, out of breath, and dizzy. She knew that Fitz kept the tea on the top shelf, but she was too short to reach it without a stool, and, given how unsteady she was on her feet at present, Jemma didn't think it would be a good idea to try standing on anything elevated.
Her breath caught in her throat, and out of nowhere she was crying; hard, ragged, relentless sobs. She sank the the floor, landing harder than she'd anticipated. Jemma bit down on the sleeve of her jumper, trying to muffle the noise. She was relieved when it didn't taste like dirt.
She found herself sucking on it, flashes of another life flickering behind her eyes, but it became uncomfortably wet and tasted gross after awhile, and then she was crying all over again.
"Sweetheart? What are you doing out of bed? You need to rest." Bobbi sat down next to her and stroked her cheek, fingers gentle and warm.
Jemma blinked. She wasn't sure how to explain what she'd wanted. Agent...Mommy...the woman, she would know.
May. That was her name. May would know what she needed. May always knew how to help.
But, May was gone. Maybe she'd decided Jemma was too much trouble, after she'd disappeared, and scared everyone the way she had.
"Ma-" Jemma began, but the words lodged in her throat, her tongue awkward and unresponsive after months without use. She sighed. "I...May...Want." She squeezed her eyes shut and hid her face.
She was embarrassed. That wasn't right. The words didn't fit together properly, but she couldn't for the life of her understand how to fix it. Jemma sniffled, and tried to suppress a flinch when Bobbi started rubbing her back.
Her vision tunneled and her mouth was dry. Her stomach clenched, and before she could even try to verbalize her feelings, she was retching onto the floor. Nothing came up, thankfully, but it was still scary.
"Poor baby," Bobbi said softly, and kissed her forehead. "Are you hurting?"
Jemma bit her lip. She didn't think she hurt anywhere in particular, but it was hard to tell, because her whole body felt like one giant bruise. She shook her head. She coughed again, and made a quiet mewling noise in the back of her throat.
"Do you want something to drink?"
Jemma nodded. She was very thirsty.
"There you are!" Fitz exclaimed quietly. "You scared me. Are you alright?"
Jemma was happy to see him, but she also felt guilty for scaring him. "Sor." She swallowed and shook her head. Words were hard. She took a breath and tried again. "I sorry," it still wasn't perfect, but Fitz seemed to understand what she was trying to say.
Fitz pulled her close and gave her a hug. He smelled like fresh linens and safety, and she was glad that he was close by.
Jemma had all but fallen asleep again by the time Bobbi came back with her water. It was in a glass, and that made it difficult to hold. And on top of that, her hands were shaking, and she kept spilling it down her shirt.
"Okay, little one, let's try something else." Bobbi said softly, after Jemma'd managed to spill most of the glass down her front.
Bobbi looked over at Fitz. "Do you remember where May keeps her..."
Fitz nodded, even though Jemma couldn't follow the conversation.
"They're in the cupboard above the fridge...I'm going to call her. I know she's on vacation, and maybe I'm just being selfish, but I think we need her back. Especially now."
Bobbi nodded. "Can't hurt to try..."
Fitz was leaving, and suddenly that was the most terrible thing she could imagine.
"No! Stay!" Jemma cried, hands reaching for him of their own accord.
"That's the most coherent thing she's said all day. Why don't you stay with her, and I'll call May." Bobbi suggested.
"Alright," Fitz conceded.
Bobbi took something out of the cupboard and did something to it at the sink before handing it to Fitz.
Fitz handed her a different cup, one with a lid.
Sippy. Her brain supplied, and she knew this one, at least, wouldn't spill.
Bobbi knelt down and stroked Jemma's cheek. "Will you be okay here with Fitz for a little while?"
Jemma nodded. She'd be safe with Fitz. She reached out and wrapped her arms around Bobbi and squeezed, because you were supposed to hug people you cared about.
Bobbi squeezed back, and Jemma felt small and warm and safe. She kissed Jemma's temple and left the room.
Almost immediately after Bobbi had gone, Skye came in and took some painkillers while Jemma drank from her sippy cup. It was just water, but it had been so long since she'd had anything to drink that wasn't dirt-flavored, that it was wonderful. She swallowed some more water and leaned against Fitz's chest.
"You okay?" His chest rumbled as he spoke.
Skye took an energy drink out of the fridge and cracked it open. She chugged it down fast, and the thought that May wouldn't approve of her beverage choice only made Jemma miss her more.
Skye wiped her mouth. "Never better." She sounded angry and stressed, and she looked like she was only seconds away from breaking something, or bursting into tears.
"May'd be furious if she knew what you were doing."
"Well, May isn't here!" Skye snapped, "She left just like everyone else." She cried quietly for a moment, and then looked up, scrubbing at her eyes.
Jemma's chest hurt. She wanted to hug Skye, but she wasn't sure she could walk that far.
"Sorry. I shouldn't have yelled. I'm just a little overwhelmed."
"'S okay." Fitz motioned Skye to sit down with them on the couch. "Thank you." He said. "I'd never have been able to rescue Jemma without you."
Skye nibbled her thumb. "You'd have found a way. But, you're welcome. I'm glad I could help."
Jemma took hold of Skye's hand. "Thanks."
Skye shrugged. "Fitz did all the heavy lifting. I'm glad you're safe, Jems. I was really worried about you."
Jemma nodded. She'd been worried too.
Skye sighed and sat next to Jemma. "I miss my blanket." She said quietly.
Jemma blinked. What had happened to Skye's blanket? "Skye?" She began, only to realize she had no idea what she was going to say.
"It's Daisy," she corrected, gentle and soft. "I know it's a lot to take in." Daisy sounded almost guilty.
Jemma nodded once and leaned against Fitz again. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. She was so tired...
"Hey, guys. I have good news. May's on her way home." Bobbi said.
Jemma smiled. That was good. May could fix everything. May could help her feel safe again.
"So what? She's just going to leave again." Skye--Daisy--folded her arms and her mouth compressed into a thin, bitter line.
"That's not fair, Daisy. She's trying. May is very busy, just like the rest of us, and just like you. I know it's tough, and we've been through a lot, but try to remember that, okay?"
"Whatever." Daisy sneered. "You're not the boss of me."
Bobbi looked tired. "Do I need to get Coulson?"
"Do what you want. I'm not Little now. I haven't been since May left. Stop treating me like a kid."
"Then stop acting like one!" Bobbi snapped.
Jemma curled against Fitz and shut her eyes. She couldn't deal with yelling, not so soon after everything. She was crying, and a mess and she felt bad for getting Fitz's shirt messy, bet he just held onto her tighter. He didn't seem upset and she was glad.
Bobbi lowered her voice. "You think you're the only one who got dealt a shitty hand? Everyone on this plane has been in a living hell for the past six months. Just because you took a few hits doesn't give you license to treat everyone else like dirt. You're not the only one suffering."
"My mom died, trying to murder me. My dad killed her, to protect me, because I didn't think it was right to sacrifice everyone else for some kind of master-species crusade. And on top of that, my father doesn't even know who I am."
"I can't imagine how terrible that must have been for you, and I'm not gonna tell you I understand, because I don't. But, this is a team, a family. We all have to support each other, especially when things get tough."
"Then why don't you tell that to May?"
Daisy was trembling now, tears dripping off her chin. She shoved off the couch and stepped past Bobbi, and disappeared down the hallway.
Bobbi watched her go and sighed. "Poor kid,"
Jemma peeked out from Fitz's shoulder. Yelling was loud and scary, and she'd had enough 'loud-and-scary' to last her a lifetime. She eased her hands away from her ears.
Daisy came back with a well-worn stuffed rabbit that Jemma recognized instantly, and a dummy. "I thought you might want these." She said, handing the items to Jemma, and then she was gone again.
Jemma hugged the rabbit, rubbing its soft fur over her cheek. It grounded her, made her feel secure. She slid the dummy hesitantly between her lips and looked away from Fitz, embarrassed. She knew this wasn't exactly normal, at least, she didn't think so, but it helped so much...
"Hey," Fitz said gently. "You don't have to hide. Not from me."
Jemma hummed contentedly and pressed against him, safe at last.
And then she was drifting.
*.*.*.*.
[LEO]
Jemma was drooling on his shirt, but he didn't care. He was just glad she was sleeping--the nightmares kept her up most nights. She didn't like to talk about what had happened on the other planet, but he wasn't going to push; she would tell him when she was ready.
If he was being honest, he was just glad she was safe.
So, so glad.
If he'd been just a second later in grabbing her...
"Does she need..." Bobbi broke into his thoughts. "Diapers at night? Like Daisy?"
Fitz shook his head. "I don't think so. She's been bunking with me for the past few nights, and we haven't had any issues...It's more of a comfort thing for her, I think."
"Okay." Bobbi said. She sank down onto the couch next to him.
"She thinks you don't know about that, by the way. The nappies l, I mean. Ever since May left and she started trying to put this team together for Coulson, she's been trying to hide it even more. I actually think the stress makes it even worse for her. She hasn't been able to...unwind for a while, and I think it's getting to her. Daisy's trying so hard to fill May's shoes while she's away, on top of trying to keep up with all her other responsibilities." Fitz swallowed. "I think it just reminds her of how much she misses her."
Bobbi rubbed his arm. "I think you're right. She's running herself ragged trying to do everything on her own. Talent and ambition aren't the same as wisdom and experience, even if she does have superpowers."
"Maybe May can help when she gets here." Fitz mused, stroking Jemma's hair absently.
"I hope so," Bobbi said, and brushed her fingers through his curls gently. "Get some rest, okay?"
Fitz nodded and yawned, realizing for the first time how utterly exhausted he was. He leaned back against the couch and shut his eyes--he wasn't sure he wanted to sleep, because Jemma might need him, but he also knew he wouldn't be any good to her if he wasn't adequately rested.
The sound of Jemma nursing on her dummy was oddly soothing, if only because it meant she trusted him to keep her safe while she was Little.
He yawned, tired enough to feel it in his bones, and allowed sleep to claim him.
*.*.*.*.
[DAISY]
The mannequin's head exploded, and Daisy sighed. That was the fourth training dummy she'd destroyed in the past day and a half; Coulson was gonna be pissed.
She understood where Bobbi was coming from, she really did, and Maybe she shouldn't have been so quick to get angry...
But couldn't Bobbi see that she was already stretched too thin?
Coulson wanted the new team put together, and Dr. Garner wasn't cooperating and May, the one person who could have helped her to sort through the mess that was currently her life, was nowhere to be found.
And they hadn't exactly parted on the best of terms...
On top of attacking May in Afterlife, she'd laid the woman's deepest, most personal secret bare in front of Coulson, used it as a weapon against her. She'd been misguided, fueled by a desperate hope that she'd finally found her family after twenty-six years of disappointment, and too blinded by that same hope to realize that she'd had one already.
She wouldn't blame May if she hated her.
Daisy really needed some Little time, to relieve some of the awful tension that weighed down on her very being. The bedwetting hadn't stopped, but she was a leader now, she couldn't afford to show weakness. And that meant keeping an even tighter lid on it.
She felt sick and exhausted and beaten, but she had to carry on.
That's what May would have done.
She piled the remains of the destroyed training dummy in a corner and headed toward her bunk to shower.
She'd been staring at the floor, and ran headlong into someone in her distracted state.
"Sorry," she said immediately.
"No harm done," May said, and Daisy immediately looked up. May gave her an appraising once-over. "It's good to see you, Daisy. Are you doing alright?"
Somehow, that made her feel even worse, because of course May would know that she'd changed her name. She barely managed a nod.
"Good. Did you raid my closet while I was away?"
Daisy shook her head. "No. I just wanted to wear something more functional. I'm heading up a project for Coulson, and I figured that if I'm going to be in charge, I'd better look the part."
"He told me," May said, and smiled a little. "It's a good look for you."
"Thanks...Hey...about before..." Daisy squirmed uncomfortably. "I was out of line. I shouldn't have said what I said to you, and I shouldn't have attacked you in Afterlife. You were only trying to help; I understand that now. I'm sorry."
May nodded. "We all say things we regret when we're angry. It's alright. I forgive you. You were caught in the middle of a very ugly situation, it's only human to lash out when you feel trapped." She squeezed Daisy's arm.
"Thank you." Daisy said, holding back a tear with a heroic amount of effort. "Fitz and Simmons are in the lounge sleeping. It's been a rough couple of days."
May's face softened. "How is she?"
"It's really bad, May. Even Fitz wasn't this messed up when he came out of his coma. I'm glad you came. She needs you."
We all need you.
"I know." May said. "I'll be by to check on you later." Her tone suggested that even though she hid it well, she knew that Daisy was struggling too.
Jemma's scream tore through the base, and both women flinched.
"It's like this every night." Daisy said, and wiped at her eyes.
"I'll go check on her." May answered. She gave Daisy a brief, tender hug. "I missed you too, you know." She said, and turned away to make good on her word.