Archive of Our Own

She immediately rolls her eyes, but then they land on his face, and she swallows. The moon is full tonight, the smaller one that Fitz calls Blinky, and it casts a milky glow on his profile. The scruff (which is apparently all the beard he can grow) works with the moonlight to make him look strong and mature.

Not bad for a boy who's talking about monkeys.

But, of course, he is strong. Strong enough to survive on this waste of a planet for twelve years, alone. Strong enough to save her from a death that has claimed so many others. He may have hated her at first, but she's gotten through a few of his defenses, and that is a great victory. He's not just strong—he's kind, brave, and (she swallows again), unbearably handsome.

And his mind, well, that is another thing altogether.

For twenty-eight years, Jemma Simmons believed that she would never find her intellectual equal on Earth, and she was right—all these years, Fitz was trapped here. She can't help but wonder what it would have been like to have him in her lab, or her classes at the Academy. She can't help but ponder why she feels less lonely here than she has anywhere else.

So when he points up at the stars, at this brand new constellation he made up himself, she simply can't help but scoot just a little bit closer and lean in to see what he sees. And when she accidentally brushes her cheek against his stubble, it startles her into a laugh.

But then he turns to her with a questioning gaze and her lips are only an inch from his, and they both jump back.

"Sorry," she blurts. 

"No, I just didn't realize you were so—"

"I was just trying to see what you—"

"It's hard to see, anyway."

"And you probably see monkeys everywhere."

"And I mean, I know Will would—"

Jemma snaps her mouth shut and sees him do the same. She blinks at him a few times before she says, "What?"

Even in this perpetual night, she thinks she sees red in his cheeks. He ducks his head and clears his throat.

"I, um, I mean you probably go stargazing with him all the time."

Jemma takes a breath and, once again, regrets telling Fitz about Will. This has to be the hundredth time he's brought Will up, even though she only mentioned Will in one moment of ill-advised, uncontrollable grief.

"No," she says, "he's not really interested. The only person who does this with me is my dad."

Fitz cocks an eyebrow at her. "Your dad?"

This whole conversation has put her on edge, so she of course launches into the whole story about her scoliosis, and Fitz asks questions about her treatment like an engineer would, and somehow she's laughing through a truly awful impression of her father while Fitz laughs right along with her. When they stop laughing, absolutely breathless, she looks at Fitz and finds him looking right back at her.

Everything is blue in this accursed place, so she can't see the brilliance of his eyes, though she can imagine how they must be sparkling. She waits to see what he'll do and finds that she is holding her breath. Eventually, he lowers his head and sighs.

"We're going to get you back to them, Jemma. Your dad and Will. I promise."

She smiles, though her heart sinks.

"Thanks, Fitz."

She wonders what he would do if she'd had better control over her tongue, or if she could convince him that one date with a man she barely knew—the promise of one date, really—doesn't compare to the connection that is always crackling between her and Fitz. She (quite literally) fell into his life only a few long, desperate months ago, but she already knows the beginnings of his thoughts and the ends of his sentences. And if she leaned in and kissed him right now, what would he do then? That, she is yet to discover.

But those words and actions belong to a different girl, one who knows how to do more than mix chemicals and kill monster plants. So instead, she watches to see the smile that stretches across his face at her gratitude as Fitz turns back to the moon.

"I know it's not much, but if my calculations are correct, we should have a double full moon in a few weeks. It'll almost be like sunshine. That is, until the sun actually rises, but I'm going to get you off this rock long before that."

He smiles and nudges her shoulder with his.

Sunlight.

She misses sunlight.

And wine, and tea, and the team, and her parents, and her lab, and a thousand other things. She misses everything so much that some days, if it weren't for Fitz's encouragement, she wouldn't have the strength to keep going.

She nudges his shoulder right back.

"I'm only leaving here if you're coming with me," she says, as brightly as she can manage, "then I'll take you to see a real capuchin. You'll see."

The smile he gives her in return doesn't reach his eyes, but it's enough to warm her heart. And, for a brief moment, she doesn't want to leave this place. She's content enough to stay here forever.

Fitz will go back with her; that much is certain. He's a hero in her eyes no matter how guilty he feels. She'll see justice done. She'll make sure he is absolved.

And she will jump through the portal with his hand in hers.

She is sure of it.