Hey, guys! :) This is a one shot, inspired by the video, Gravity by sleepwalker & hardbecks. If you haven't watched this video, please do! It's breathtakingly beautiful.
Here's the link: watch?v=6KkNFm-gs7M
This one shot is pure angst/hurt & comfort. If you like that kind of stuff, then please, be my guest. (Who doesn't? ;)) So, be prepared. It has MAJOR Season 3 Episode 10 spoilers. Make sure you leave feedback. Thank you! Here goes nothing... :')
NOTE: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS. THIS IS A PIECE OF PURE FICTION WRITTEN BY A FAN. ALL CREDITS GO TO MARVEL AND ABC PRODUCTIONS.
The Way That Gravity Pushes on You and Me
After their long mission, and managing to get out of the castle, the team was dismissed and everyone retired to their bunks, and immediately drifted off to a long and peaceful sleep; except for a few: May, Coulson and FitzSimmons; who had a lot on their minds.
Andrew had been let out by Jemma, while she was trying to escape from Hydra's captivity. He had saved her life, and Jemma clearly appreciated it, but was disappointed when she learnt about how Andrew had killed all Inhumans while she wasn't around, and somehow she felt responsible. If only she hadn't opened the container and listened to Andrew, so many Inhumans wouldn't have died. If only...
But May; May couldn't even differentiate Andrew from Lash; they both seemed the same to her now. She didn't know whether she could trust him anymore; she didn't know whether she knew him anymore; she didn't know whether he was the same Andrew she fell in love with all those years ago; she didn't know Andrew at all; and that's what was the worst part of it all. However, she was glad about the fact that everyone had come out alive and well; not severely injured at least; especially Coulson.
Coulson was lying on his bed with a hurricane in his heart. There were a lot of things he was wondering and was worried about - he had just killed a man in cold blood and taken his revenge; he had avenged Rosalind's death; he had avenged the damage Ward had caused to his team two years ago, but Coulson wasn't feeling satisfied; he wasn't feeling content; he was feeling... guilty?
Coulson wasn't a killer; he wasn't Ward. Coulson was a man who believed in trust, dignity, sacrifice and love. Perhaps the past events had turned him in to something he never wanted to become. Surely Coulson needed a good night's rest; so that he could sort out things in the morning. Perhaps even tell May or Sky-Daisy about what he had done; perhaps the whole team. Surely they wouldn't think of him as someone like Ward- a psychopath. Fitz was there, he saw the entire scene; what was he thinking about Coulson? They all knew about the horrors Ward had caused, right? He was justified, right?
All these thoughts were giving the Director a headache, so he decided to give in and rest. To wake up the next morning with a fresh mind, with new ideas, hopes and promises.
Fitz was making his way to Simmons' bunk, after being treated in the lab for his injuries by Bobbi. How much he wished for Simmons to be there, treating him, instead of Bobbi. It wasn't because Bobbi wasn't good at her job, she was quite brilliant, really, but because this was Jemma's job; she was the biochemist always running around the lab searching for the ointments, swabs and medicines required for her patient's healing she was the doctor.
Fitz smiled to himself, while remembering all those times before Shield was infiltrated by Hydra; all those times with Ward and how he, himself, Jemma and Skye were children. They were innocent, pure, young; and after their world shattered around them, they became people whom they wouldn't have even believed of becoming before Shield was infiltrated.
It was their "journey into mystery"; there was no doubt about it. Hydra, the Terrigen mist, Inhumans and the Kree stone - they were all mysteries, but when Jemma had said this, she was so excited about entering this mysterious world, everyone had gotten to know about after New York. Even the word "alien" always had something to do with fiction and never with human lives. Eventually, this concept changed, as did human lives.
Whether it was Skye or FitzSimmons, none of them knew what was to come now. They had to expect the unexpected. Nothing made sense more than half of the time; everything seemed absurd and alien, but they had to accept it and move; they had to become stronger, and smarter to counter back whatever the world threw at them, because they didn't know what they would be able to handle and what they wouldn't.
Leopold Fitz was a secret agent working for a secret undercover organisation - S.H.E.I.L.D.; he was an agent of Shield. If someone had told him this 12 years ago, he would have laughed at the person's face. He didn't, in fact, no one knew whether they would be alive to see the sun the next day. Being an agent simply meant to sacrifice for the greater good; to save lives, but they were, too, ordinary people trying to protect other ordinary people from the extraordinary.
Fitz was never the type to go out into the field and fight. He was quite glad to just sit back in his and Jemma's lab, with a nice cup of tea, and make gadgets along side Jemma; thank you very much, but he never really regretted going out into the field, as long as Jemma was with him.
If he hadn't gone out into the field with Jemma, he couldn't have realised his love for; he couldn't have had the honour of serving Coulson, or meet someone like Sky- Daisy and May or Bobbi and Lance. If he hadn't signed up for this work, he wouldn't have been able to see Jemma confessing her love for him to him, but he wouldn't have been able to feel so helpless when Jemma got sucked up to another planet.
Well, there was no turning back now. FitzSimmons just had to face everything with bravery and courage - only these two elements, with love, would help them bear the loss and pain.
He knocked ever so slightly on Jemma's door; only to receive no response. He sighed lightly and turned the door's knob. When he entered, he saw her sitting at the window seat. The lights weren't on, but with the help of the moon light he could pretty much see her face; and hear slight sniffing. The last thing he wanted was for her to cry, but the world had made it possible, otherwise.
He turned on the dimmest light in the room; hoping not to hurt her eyes, as he presumed she might have stayed in the dark for quite some time now.
Her head rested against the window, and as soon as the lights turned on, her head shot up to see who had turned them on; only to see Fitz. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and smiled weakly. They both knew why smiling brightly wouldn't make sense, because the world was too heavy on their shoulders; she was mourning for Will; it made sense.
Jemma didn't have to smile, but at the same time she wanted to. She was sick of pretending now. She didn't have to fake a smile in front of Fitz, anyway. He knew her too well to not to be able to figure out the pain behind those hazel eyes.
But Jemma wanted to smile too; she wanted to show Fitz that she was happy and glad that he had made it out in time; that he was alive and well; and that he did matter to her as much as Will, or perhaps even more; that Will wasn't the only thing in the world that mattered to her. She already felt too guilty for pulling him into this mess; too guilty for falling in love with Will - a man who didn't exist anymore.
The thought of Will never ever coming back, made yet another tear roll down her cheek. This didn't go unnoticed by Fitz; but then what did?
He stepped forward and picked up a tissue box from the near by table, and offered a tissue to her. She took one quietly, whispering a thank you and used it to wipe her wet cheeks. Fitz put the tissue box back at its original place.
"Mind if I sit here?", he asked, politely. "Of course not! Don't be silly, Fitz. Come." She made some space on her tiny seat. "We could sit on the bed, you know? There's very little space here." "Don't worry, Jemma. I'm fine." "Alright. Whatever you think is best."
A few moments passed that seemed like hours to them. Both knew what to say, but didn't know how. This was quite weird for them, but not surprising. Awkward silence was not something they experienced all the time; it was rare, but recently it had become quite common.
"I'm sorry, Jemma," Fitz said, with a hint of guilt. "I'm sorry I couldn't bring him back. I'm truly sorry."
"Fitz, please don't be sorry. There's nothing you could have done. It's alright."
"It's not, Jemma." Jemma looks at him and says nothing, because she knows it's not okay.
"I know", she silently admits.
"I killed him, Jemma." Jemma is clearly taken aback. No, that wouldn't have been true. There surely must have been some valid reason, if it were even true. "What do you mean, Fitz? What happened there? " Fitz couldn't say anything; he couldn't meet her eyes. He had killed a man she loved. Would she ever forgive him?
"Fitz, please, I have to know." But then he told her every possible detail he surprisingly remembered: how he figured out it wasn't Will, but Maveth possessing his body; and how Will actually died; he told her everything.
Jemma didn't have words. All she could do was mourn for Will. Her cheeks glistened and she nodded in understanding. After all, it was her fault, wasn't it? No matter how hard she tried to prevent her loved ones from getting hurt, there was always some situation or the other that resulted in pain.
"I'm really sorry, Jemma. I tried my best, but it wasn't him; it wasn't Will. It was it."
"Sshh. There's no need to explain your actions, Fitz. I understand. Completely." She smiled weakly and squeezed his hand; to let him know that it was okay; to let him know that it was fine, and although she was a bit disappointed, she was there to help him through it like he was always there for her; and that they'd fix it together; like they always did.
She looked up into his deep blue eyes. They were so deep that one could lose one's self in them, and never return; just like she had.
"Did you get yourself treated by Bobbi?" Fitz asked with a concerned voice. Jemma came back to reality, and replied with a nod.
The following silence was broken by Jemma.
"Fitz, will I ever make it through this? Will I ever find my way back home?", she asked; clearly about to start crying again.
Fitz looked at her for a moment, because he didn't know what to say. As much as he wanted himself, and Jemma, to believe that she will go back to how she was, he knew it wouldn't be completely possible. She had lost a part of herself back on that planet, but he wanted her to heal and he would do whatever possible to help her find herself once more; because Jemma Simmons had been through too hell, and he couldn't see her this way anymore. So, he told her.
"Hey, you haven't lost yourself, okay? You'll never lose yourself, as long as I'm with you. We'll figure this out before you know it. You're just having a low point in your life, which will pass as quick as lightening, okay? And I'm going to be there, by your side, fighting every battle with you, because I love you, and I can't see you like this. I'll always be with you, Jemma; no matter what. Whether it takes a year, or a lifetime, I'll always be with you, like I was 10 years ago, with every step of your life, you hear me? You'll never be alone; never, ever, as long as I'm around; and I'll always wait for you. You need to be patient with yourself. Nothing's going to happen to my British girl, okay?"
Jemma didn't know whether to cry or laugh, because although she knew all of this already, all of this coming out of his mouth mattered to her a lot; but she chose the latter.
"However, I'm a grown woman now, Fitz; not a "girl" ", she said with a smile, which reached her eyes this time. Fitz hadn't seen this in a while, and it made his heart swell.
"Yes, well, a beautiful woman, really; not just some ordinary woman."
Jemma blushed, and he loved it. He just wanted her to be happy; she didn't deserve any of this. She had been through enough traumas. He wanted each other to be happy for once. He wanted each other to be the same excited scientists they were once, before they had been assigned to Coulson's team. How silly they had been to believe the world as something so innocent and pure like themselves. Oh, no. The world was full of lies, and pain, and death; and they couldn't hide from it, they could only face it. The question was when they would, how they would respond; who would they become; but this question had already been answered, because they had both changed tremendously. They had seen too much pain in life; they had seen death, and seen their friend lie to the faces; but this was only the beginning. They was a lot more awaiting them, which they could possibly never know about; but could only prepare themselves for what was to come their way.
Fitz moved his lips towards her forehead, and kissed her forehead. He moved back and looked into her eyes. They were so beautiful; so deep. He wasn't a bit afraid, that he had fallen for those eyes and didn't how to get out; he didn't care.
"I think I should get going now. It's late. You need rest," he smiled and was about to get up, when Jemma grabbed his hand.
"Please, stay. I need you, Fitz."
Fitz nodded, and they made their way to her bed. He didn't know whether they'd be able to fit, but Jemma needed him, and that's what mattered the most.
He took off his shoes and got in, and waited for Jemma to turn the lights out.
A moment later they were both lying in bed; with Jemma's head rested on his chest, and she breathing heavily. He had to admit, he was a bit uncomfortable, but Jemma was at peace and that's what mattered.
He had always put Jemma's needs before his, and he never considered it as a big deal.
He wanted them to stay like this forever, and not go out and face the world. He was tired, and she was fragile at the moment; but he had to stay strong, and not lose hope for Jemma; and most importantly, she needed him.
Eventually, he gave in and closed his eyes; hoping for a better tomorrow; hoping to have the strength to face, and fight what the world was to throw at them.
He had to stop worrying so much. He had his team to help him; he had love; he had friendship. Tonight, he just had to be thankful for being alive and surviving; tonight he had to be thankful for Jemma being alive, and safe in his arms.
