Jemma's thoughts were a torment. She could feel them sneaking up on her when she was so close to getting some sleep, and then she was wide awake again, staring at the cold, impersonal room and wondering how she ended up in such a state.

In all honesty, it was more of a rhetorical question, as she already knew. Ward, Skye, HYDRA, that's what had put her in that state. Life, in general. But she had to cope with it, because she had to be the level-headed one. Fitz couldn't handle that, not in the state he was in.

That was where her thoughts turned more and more frequently. Fitz. He consumed her thoughts, her affections, her heart. She'd not lied to Bobbi, per se, she hadn't thought of a relationship with Fitz prior to what happened. But it seemed every time she'd had a free moment since (which, admittedly, wasn't often) it had been all that was on her mind. What it would be like, how it would work, would he be suitable leverage for HYDRA?

She sighed, sitting up in her bed and grabbing a book. Nothing like a good book to calm the mind. She flicked to the page she'd been on most recently and began to read it carefully, eyes slowly drifting down the page. She was getting on rather well with distracting herself until she managed to cut her finger on the side of a page. That simple, small thing almost had her crying. Nothing was going right for her any more.

She stood up, the tears still stinging behind her eyes, and made her way to the kitchen where a first aid kit was situated. First, she wet a paper towel and placed it over the top (best to make sure it wasn't infected and stem the blood flow before adding a plaster to the mix). And that was when the tears began to flow- slow, silent, heartbreaking. She couldn't stop them, it was as though the last few months came out in a sudden surge of emotion. So absorbed was she in her own pain that she didn't hear the footsteps enter the room.

"Jemma?" came a painfully familiar voice, and she looked up to stare at him. Fitz looked back at her, and his arm twitched up for a moment before falling back to his side. He cleared his throat, turning his eyes down to the ground. It hurt her acutely to know that he couldn't even bear to look at her, to touch her.

"What's wrong?" he asked, eventually, and she shrugged, looking down at her finger.

"I got a papercut," she replied, and she sounded so pathetic that Fitz actually let out a huff of laughter.

"No offence, Jemma, but I think you've had worse," he replied.

She blushed furiously, but he was right. She had had worse. But him saying that made her crying more severe, and she shook her head.

"It's more a... tipping point," she forced out, and Fitz looked up sympathetically. Again, his hand twitched, but he didn't move. She reached for the first aid kit, but he got it that time. One of his hands was still having difficulty functioning, but she knew he could deal with a paper cut- so could she, but this was the first time he'd touched her without a life-threatening situation in forever. So she let him check the blood was clotting before cleaning it with surgical spirits and placing a plaster over it. He held her hand a moment longer, tongue flickering out to wet his lips, and then dropped it like a hot coal.

She tried not to let the hurt show on her face, tried not to let anything show. But Fitz knew her too well, and he frowned slightly, tilting his head to the side. In response, she moved forwards and enveloped him in her arms. For a moment, his arms flailed in response before they finally settled around her waist, his head resting on her shoulder. His hand slowly began to move in circles on her back, and she felt a familiar curl in her lower stomach.

Oh.

She pulled back to look at him, and next thing she knew she was kissing him.

It wasn't a gentle kiss, nor was it hesitant- not on her part, anyway. Fitz, however, his lips were moving carefully, cautiously, almost in a manner that was confused. And that was what he wore on his face when he moved back- confusion.

"Jemma... did you just... kiss me?" he asked, and she bit her lip and shrugged. He moved back, hands falling to his sides, and gripped the edge of the table. She moved to comfort him, but he held up a hand. She stayed back.

He was letting out deep breaths, and one hand moved to pinch his nose as he did so. His tension was clear in the set of his shoulders, and it was a while before he finally turned to face her.

"You can't just... you show no interest in me. None at all, as anything more than what we already... you knew how I felt- how I still... feel. But you... you just ran!" he raised his hands in frustration, "You ran away from me, Jemma, and I didn't... it was all my fault!"

She froze.

What he said wasn't a lie. She'd left, like a coward, because she wanted to figure out her feelings. She didn't know how she felt about Fitz after his confession, and she needed to figure things out. But he clearly thought it was for another reason altogether- he thought she'd left because she couldn't deal with his illness. But that just... it wasn't it.

"I needed time, Fitz. To figure out how I felt for you. And I did."

He shook his head, giving her a sad smile, "No, you didn't. You would've told me as soon as you got back."

"Don't tell me what I would've done!" she yelled.

The silence between them thickened at her outburst, and he stared at her, wide eyed. She never yelled, not about something serious. She'd bicker, she'd nark, but she never yelled. Ever.

"I didn't tell you when I got back because I was scared, Fitz. I'd just escaped death at HYDRA, barely. I was scared, and high on adrenaline, and you had other friends, friends who weren't me. And I knew I couldn't possibly mess with that. And then you were so angry with me for treating you the same, and I didn't know how to deal with it, Fitz! How to be there for you without hurting you more than I already had!"

He stared at her again, and then reached forwards, gathering her in his arms and kissing her gently on the lips. It was chaste, barely a brush of dry, chapped lips. But it was tender, and she melted. He pulled back after a moment, and scrubbed a hand over the back of his head.

"What does this... are we...?" he left the question hanging in the air, though whether that was due to him not knowing what to say or just for effect, Jemma didn't know. She sighed and looked steadfastly to the floor.

"I don't know, Fitz. Everything is just so messed up right now, it seems wrong to get tangled in our personal lives too," she rubbed at her arm as she spoke, and he nodded, letting out a gentle sigh. His face had fallen, but there were hints of understanding there as well.

"You're right, of course. I'll just..." he gestured to the door. She lurched forwards, grabbing his hand and shaking her head.

"One night couldn't hurt, could it? Just so I can sleep. I've not been able to, not since..."

She never finished that sentence, because Leo's mouth was on hers before, leading her to his bedroom. And that was where they spent their first night together, soft and innocent and reassuring. Promises of safety and protection exchanged between breathy gasps, and that beautiful reprieve found together in the afterglow, skin shining with sweat as both snuggled into each other as close as possible. It was only one night, but the comfort was one neither had experienced since SHIELD fell, and that in itself was a relief.