Bonjour my fellow fans. I have been kind of MIA from this site for awhile. So I've decided to accomplish little stories, one at a time, before trying another long one. Sorry y'all...Anyway, I hope everybody's good. Please review!
Disclaimer: If you've heard it before, then it's probably not mine.
"Night...day," Fitz muttered to himself. The two differentiating 'windows' had caught his attention after agreeing with Simmons over what to make for dinner. He had walked down the hallway to fire up the griddle when he saw the two different pictures. He made his way into the room, trying to figure out the glitch.
"Pancakes will cheer everyone up a bit!" Simmons repeated to herself hopefully. She was hungry herself and hoped that getting food into her system would clear her thoughts and help her figure out this new situation. She entered the store room with a little skip in her step and glided through the maze of racks to find the necessary ingredients. With a little blue bag of flour tucked under her arm, Simmons began to return to the rendezvous point, to meet Fitz, when she noticed a trail of red streaking its way down the door frame. Her confused facial expression relaxed into one of disbelief and horror when she followed the trail up into the vents.
"What in the world?" Fitz murmured. His ears registered a relentless clicking from somewhere nearby, and he noticed a red knife jammed into the frame, preventing the screen from changing to daylight. He grasped the knife in his palm and wrenched it from its place. Immediately the screen shifted to daylight, as was its nature, and Fitz was momentarily satisfied. However, the satisfaction was mixed with a suspicion. Someone had jammed the window on purpose. And when night changed to day, Fitz found out why. Carved into the screen, using undoubtedly this very knife, were the words Ward is HYDRA. For a split second, everything froze. His heart, his brain, his body. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. He couldn't focus on anything else. That painful second evolved into multiple.
Coulson, I - I have to find Coulson, he thought.
Suddenly a blood-curdling scream split the air, a plastic red knife right into Fitz's heart.
"Jemma?" he said. "Jemma!"
His ability to move his legs kicked in and he ran from the room, rounding the corner to find his friend. She had gone off to the storeroom to find ingredients to make the pancakes. She had thought it would help take the team's mind off some of their worries. Fitz sprinted down the hallway, racing around corners and through the doorway.
"Jemma!" he cried.
Simmons sat on the ground, rocking back and forth, her hands covering her mouth and tears streaming down her cheeks. The blue package she had collected lay on the ground beside her, popped open, painting the concrete with flour.
"Jemma," he whispered again, compassion surpassing his fear. As he walked forward to comfort her, Fitz noticed a sprinkling of blood pooling in the middle of the powder, and a trail streaking its way down the door frame. He followed the trail to the ceiling, where the body of Eric Koenig lay stuffed into the vents.
A strangled gasp caught in Fitz's throat as he stumbled backward. His hand covered his mouth, to suppress all of the horrible screams that fought to release themselves from his lungs. He felt like he was having a heart attack. He blocked the first thought that crept into his mind. He refused to believe that Ward could have done this. His breaths began coming in short gasps, and he had to grab one of the racks to steady himself. A muffled sob from Simmons brought Fitz back to earth. He could deal with his own emotions later. Right now Jemma and only Jemma mattered. He walked towards her and gently took her arm, pulling her to her feet. She could barely stand, and quivered as he wrapped both of his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. Simmons' fingers curled into the navy wool of Fitz's sweater as she released another sob. Her body shook in the security of his arms and with every whimper, he stroked her back and whispered, "Shh, it's alright." He allowed her to cry, quietly leading her from the room and into the hallway, where they were met with the worried countenances of Trip and Coulson.
"What happened?" Coulson asked.
Fitz nodded up and into the storeroom, which Coulson, taking a last glance at Jemma, entered to investigate.
"Are you okay?" Tripp asked Jemma softly, reaching out to lay a hand on her shoulder.
"She's fine," Fitz responded shortly. "You might want to go help Coulson."
"He's not wrong," Coulson's voice wavered as it echoed from within the room. "Do we know who did this?" he asked as he rejoined the trio.
"I'm - I'm not sure, but…"
Regretfully, Fitz, with an arm still around Jemma, led the group to Skye's message.
"We've been played," Tripp grunted, shaking his head. "I need to punch something."
"No," Fitz argued. "Ward, Ward could not have done this! Skye must have misunderstood something."
"Either way," Coulson said. "We've got one dead guy and we're short a Bus."
Hoped you guys liked it! I recently discovered the show and binged it on Netflix and now I have to actually wait a week for the new episode. It's awful. I love FitzSimmons and hopefully will upload one of them plus Skye next. I kind of have a crust on Fitz, not gonna lie! Please review! :)