Disclaimer: Characters from the show aren't mine. Vague references to other Whedon characters also aren't mine. The title comes from the song "Beating Heart" by Ellie Golding. Also, this story is very very heavily influenced by/based upon the book Panic by Lauren Oliver. So most of the credit has to go to her too!

A/N: I just love high school AUs, I feel like that's the only explanation I have for this story. Whoops! I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter One

Everyone was talking about The Game. Jemma knew this shouldn't surprise her. The Game was all anyone could ever talk about during this time of year. Even though Jemma thought there were plenty of other things to talk about: graduation, summer, college. Anything other than The Game.

But maybe Jemma was a little bit biased. Jemma never cared about The Game. She never paid much attention to the talk. Never went down to watch the beginning of summer jump that kicked things off. Never went to watch any of the other events. Never cared to see who the winner was. The Game held ever less interest for her than usual thanks to her own graduation and other events that made her even more certain that she was too distant, too separate to join in with the rest of her classmates' excitement.

Even so, Jemma can't help but overhear some of what is being said. Rumors are spreading through her classmates like wildfire. Talk of the challenges. Cliff-diving, alligator wrestling, rock climbing, duels. Talk of the prize money. Fifty thousand. Seventy. A hundred thousand. It makes Jemma's head spin to think about.

The talk stops when the principal walks into the room and tells them that soon they're going to begin their walk to the gym and become high school graduates. But Jemma can still see the nervous energy in her classmates. The way that everyone seems to be thinking the same thing.

They might be graduating today but tomorrow it's going to be all about The Game.

Jemma can't begin to imagine why Fitz has any interest in going to the opening jump. They never do anything relating to The Game, not even this traditional beginning of summer event.

It takes Jemma a few hours of badgering before she gets it out of him. The cute girl from his physics class, Bennett Halverson, will be there. She's going to be jumping and Fitz promised to cheer her own.

Jemma grimaces at the idea. Crowds make her uncomfortable and she hates most of her classmates. But she loves Fitz so she hears herself saying, "Don't you dare leave me alone."

Fitz leaves her alone. She doesn't blame him, not really. But she's still pissed. He has about as much luck with ladies as she does (which is to say…none) so Jemma tries to be happy for him when Fitz gets dragged away by Bennett. But that understanding quickly disappears when she's getting shoved and jostled by her classmates and her feet ache from being stepped on. Fitz better appreciate all the things she does for him.

Until the jump, it's all like one big, wild party. Jemma wonders if she can still count this as a high school party because, if so, then she can say she's been to at least one. People are drinking and smoking and laughing and the music is loud and Jemma just wants to go home. She used to look at her classmates and count the days until she would be off to college and free. Now Jemma doesn't know what to do when she looks at them.

Instead, Jemma finds herself looking up at the stony top of the quarry. Soon, anyone who wants to take part in The Game will gather up there and jump thirty feet into the water below. Jemma's stomach turns as she thinks about it. It's dangerous and reckless and just because no one has been hurt jumping doesn't mean it can't happen.

Jemma just traces the jump with her eyes as her classmates talk around her. Miles Lydon is standing close enough to her as he talks to Raina that he might as well be on top of her. But he doesn't seem to notice Jemma.

"You're full of shit." Raina is saying with a laugh. She sounds drunk already or maybe just flirtatious. "You don't know."

"Yes I do." Miles says adamantly. "Seventy thousand dollars. Swear to God. That's how big the pot is this year. That's why I'm going to win."

Jemma freezes. Seventy thousand dollars. The idea makes her eyes well up with tears. She looks back at the top of the quarry and thinks-

But no. It's completely ridiculous. What has gotten into her? She can't. She wouldn't make it through two rounds of The Game, let alone to the end. Jemma pushes the idea from her mind. The jump would be easy compared to what would follow.

Jemma thinks it must be the heat and the sun getting to her because she can't think straight. All she can think is seventy thousand dollars and it's not such a long way to jump.

Jemma searches the crowd desperately for Fitz. They need to leave. Now. Bennett Halverson be damned.

But Jemma can't find him. She's completely on her own. And her eyes keep traveling to the top of the quarry.

Seventy thousand dollars is the only thing Jemma is thinking as she moves with her classmates away from the party and toward the top of the quarry. There are almost thirty of them, if she had to guess. Everyone always talks a big game, everyone shows up to boast about their likelihood of winning The Game. They brag and make promises about what they're going to do with the money when they win it. But, in the end, there are more cowards than competitors. Jemma keeps her eyes on the ground, unwilling to look at the people around her. She doesn't want to see who else is going to be jumping; she doesn't want to see who else is thinking seventy thousand dollars.

Maybe she should. Maybe seeing the other people who are going to play The Game would snap her out of this foolishness and make her turn around so she can find Fitz. Jemma tries not to think about what Fitz is going to do when he sees her up here. She'll probably give him a heart attack. Poor Fitz. He'll get over it.

Jemma keeps walking even though she's shaking and her hands are trembling. Sweat trickles down the back of her neck and winds its way between her shoulder blades. She should not be doing this. She shouldn't. Jemma wonders if anyone else is looking at her and thinking the same thing or if everyone is so focused on their own nerves and excitement that they don't bother to notice her. Jemma doesn't want to know what they're thinking.

And suddenly, the walk is over and they're gathering at the quarry. It looks like a much longer jump from up here. Jemma's heart threatens to jump out of her throat and take the plunge for her. Seventy thousand dollars she thinks as she digs half-moon craters into her palms with her nails.

She could still turn back. She could turn back and find Fitz and no one would think any less of her. Jemma has already seen one of her classmates do exactly that. Once you jump, once you hit the water, you are officially a contestant in The Game and the only way out is to lose. Or to win. Seventy thousand dollars.

Jemma doesn't turn around. She just gathers with her other classmates at the edge of the quarry. The water is bright, a perfect shade of blue below them. Jemma quickly lifts her head because she thinks if she keeps looking down then she'll never jump. Or maybe she'd just fall.

Once the signal is given, they have to jump. There's no rush, no prize for being the first to jump, no penalty for being the last. It takes a few people diving into the water before most of the participants will do it anyway. Jemma glances over her shoulder. It's still not too late to turn back.

Instead, Jemma swallows and finally lets herself look around the rest of her classmates. Some she recognizes, some she doesn't know. She might have gone to school with most of these people since she was young but she doesn't know them all. They travel in very different circles. She recognizes Grant Ward, quarterback of the football team. Maria Hill, editor of the school newspaper. Melinda May, who always seemed happier just being by herself. Others that Jemma doesn't know. People who could easily beat her in a track meet, let alone in The Game.

Jemma's eyes settle on one girl she doesn't know by sight and she feels a stab of regret that high school is over and she never got to know her. Jemma knows it's the heat and the fear that is making her think that way. Well, that and the fact that this girl is gorgeous. Her eyes are dark, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail that drops down her shoulder. She's wearing a tank top and cut-off shorts and her skin is tan, the muscles in her legs coiled like springs even though she doesn't look like she's ready to jump. But she's embraced the imminence of the jump and the fall and has accepted it with an easy confidence that Jemma immediately envies.

Finally, Jemma can hear the sound of the announcer; he's a member of the junior class, selected by some mysterious council. By the same people who run The Game each year. Only seniors can compete so the idea is that the junior announcer will be unbiased, as though his commentating can somehow influence the game. She can't make out his words, just the drone of his voice and most of what he says is swallowed up anyway by the cheering and screaming from the crowd below. Jemma wonders if Fitz is watching, if he can pick her out among the crowd up here on the quarry. I'm sorry Fitz she thinks. Seventy thousand dollars.

The signal splits through the fuzzy sounds of summer, momentarily silencing the drone of cicadas and the lazy calls of the birds in the trees around the quarry. Jemma knows it's not possible but she thinks that her heart is going to push right out from her chest. Stranger things have happened, she's sure. She can still turn around. She can still go back and watch with the others.

Grant Ward is the first to jump. He gets a running start and lets out a whoop when he flies off the edge, crashing into the water seconds later. His head surfaces and he cheers the people cheering for him on the bank. Two others jump after him and then May and Jemma still thinks about turning around.

Jemma watches as Ward and the others reach the bank and pull themselves out onto the dock where the announcer is waiting. Their names are written down and the commitment is made. Jemma stares at Ward with his easy smile and his casual confidence. She could never beat someone like him. What is she thinking.

Jemma glances back at the other girl, the one with the dark eyes and the whip sharp smile on her face. She meets Jemma's gaze again and smiles and winks and then she's gone, jumping off the edge and toward the water. She disappears beneath the water and surfaces moments later with a smile on her face, kicking toward the dock.

Jemma stops thinking. She just jumps.

Jemma's teeth are chattering as she tells Antoine Triplet her name and she tries not to take it personally as he looks at her suspiciously before writing her name down. They had chemistry together, so she has the feeling that his assessment of her is pretty accurate.

Thankfully, the day is hot and Jemma hopes that she'll dry off and warm up soon. Her clothes are soaked and stuck to her body, her shoes heavy on her feet as she walks off the deck and toward the crowd. A few people congratulate her or slap her on the back simply because she's one of the contestants and Jemma has no idea when she became this person. The type of person who competes in The Game. The type of person who does stupid things without thinking.

Maybe if she begged to have her name removed they might make an exception. But Jemma doesn't actually turn back to talk to Tripp. She just thinks about it. But her feet don't move.

Suddenly someone is grabbing her roughly by the shoulders and shaking her hard and Jemma blinks, her head bobbing back and forth. "Fitz!" She twists away from him. "What are you doing?"

"What am I doing?!" Fitz practically shouts at her. "What are you doing?! Jemma! What the hell!" He points toward the quarry. "What the hell was that?!"

Jemma opens her mouth but she doesn't know how to explain herself to Fitz. She wonders how she looks to him right now: waterlogged and shivering in the summer sun. Does she look like the type of person who would compete in The Game? Does she look like she might win? Or does she look as scared to him as she feels?

"Seventy thousand dollars, Fitz." Jemma says softly. "That's what you get if you win."

But Fitz just glares at her, throwing his hands up in the air. "I cannot believe you. You're a bloody idiot." He stalks off through the crowd and Jemma follows after him because she doesn't really know what else to do. He's her best friend. And her ride.

Jemma glances over her shoulder as she works her way through the crowd. The jump might be over but the party will probably continue on into the night. Jemma wants to leave before she does anything else stupid. It's not until Jemma doesn't see the other girl that she realizes that she was even looking for her.

"Are you out of your mind?"

It's the first thing Fitz has said to her since they left the quarry. The ride back to her house was full of awkward silences and the beginnings of mumbled apologizes that never really amounted to actual sentences. They're sitting in Jemma's driveway with the windows open even though it's hot and muggy outside because the air conditioning made Jemma's teeth chatter.

"Fitz-" Jemma starts softly but Fitz just shakes his head so Jemma falls silent.

Fitz sighs and looks over at her. "I don't understand. You could get hurt. You could be killed. Like Mike Peterson. You didn't remember that when you were jumping off that cliff?"

Jemma purses her lips. No, she hadn't really thought about that. Mike Peterson had died when they were sophomores in high school; he'd been the first causality of The Game in twelve years. The police had spent a few weeks trying to get people to confess, to rat out who was pulling the strings of The Game so they could shut down the whole operation and hold someone responsible but there hadn't been a single lead, not even a false one. Jemma had been impressed with her classmates, seeing as it normally took five seconds for some sort of gossip or story to spread around. But the were some rules that no one broke, no matter what. And no one talked about The Game.

"I'm not going to die, Fitz." Jemma says with a scoff, rolling her eyes.

Fitz arches an eyebrow. "I bet that's exactly what Mike Peterson told his friends."

Jemma just rolls her eyes again. Even though she thinks he's probably right.

"And what about Chan Ho Yin? I'm sure he has plenty of regrets about taking part in The Game." Fitz continues. "And Akela Amador. I'm sure she'd rather not be blind-"

"I get it, Fitz." Jemma snaps. "Okay. I was stupid." She unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out of the car, slamming the door shut behind her.

Jemma stalks across the yard to her front door, ignoring the for sale sign in the yard like if she stops looking at it, it'll go away. It hasn't worked yet. She kicks off her wet shoes and is in the process of peeling off her wet socks when Fitz comes up to stand behind her. She doesn't turn around.

"So I'm not allowed to be worried about you, is that it?" Fitz questions. Jemma doesn't say anything. "Look, this is all my fault. I shouldn't have even drug you to the quarry and I shouldn't have just left so I could talk to-"

"Oh, Fitz." Jemma says sadly, shaking her head as she turns around to look at him. "It's not your fault." She holds open her arms and he hugs her even though her clothes are still damp. "It's seventy thousand dollars, Fitz." She whispers. "If I win."

Fitz just shakes his head. "I told you, Jemma. I told you. We could figure it out. We would think of something. It doesn't have to be this."

Jemma just shrugs and steps out of his embrace. "But it might be worth a shot."

She knows Fitz would have done everything he could. They would have spent all summer thinking and planning and hoping. It wouldn't have worked out, not in the end. This is what Jemma can do to try and save herself. And anyway, it's too late to back out now.

The thing about The Game is that it involves a lot of waiting. It stretches across the whole summer, so the tasks pop up every few weeks and always without warning. There's no time to prepare, no hint of what's to come. Only a signal, some sign that shows up around town and the news spreads like a brush fire so that everyone knows when and where to show up. Jemma is always impressed that everyone under the age of eighteen seems to know about The Game but manages to keep the word from reaching the ears of anyone else.

Almost two weeks pass by before Jemma gets word of the first challenge. She's at the store with her mother, staring blankly at the back of a cereal box while her mother calculates the cost of the things in their cart and looks at coupons and, out of the corner of her eye, Jemma sees Bennett Halverson of all people. Bennett glances around and then mouths the words, "Tonight. Nine. Water towers."

Jemma just nods and Bennett walks away without another word. She feels a thrill of excitement rush through her body; she's a competitor, she's part of something. It's weird to be included, to be the person that gets whispered messages in the grocery store.

As she's leaving the store, Jemma passes Grant Ward and some of his buddies and they meet eyes and nod to each other. Jemma feels that excitement again and tries to temper it by remembering Mike Peterson and the others. She's still an idiot but at least she's not alone.

Even though Fitz doesn't agree with her decision to play, he still shows up right on time to drive her to the water towers. "You're completely insane if you think I'm not going to be there every step of the way." He remarks, shaking his head as they get into his car. "I'm going to see my best friend win this thing."

Jemma thinks it's sweet that Fitz has so much confidence in her. It's good that one of them does. She thinks about the sign in the yard and her mother checking the coupons and the three months until the end of summer and thinks seventy thousand dollars and Jemma clinches her hands into fists and decides that, whatever tonight's task is, she's going to do it. And she's going to do it well. She's not going to be knocked off in the first round.

Everyone else in town seems to have gotten the message about tonight's challenge. Jemma is pretty sure that everyone she went to high school with and even a few younger kids are gathered around the expanse of field around the water towers. They're far enough away from the houses and businesses that no one is going to care about the noise level so there are a few dozen car radios blaring a few dozen different stations and people are yelling and laughing and cheering and Jemma still can't figure out how she came to belong to this group of people. She and Fitz never came to watch even a single challenge; they preferred to hang around together and make fun of their idiot classmates. Now she is one of them. Great. Well, if there's one thing Jemma has learned over the past year, it's that you never know where you're going to end up.

Jemma shakes her head when someone tries to shove a beer into her hands and steps closer to Fitz as they stand on the fringes of the group. She glances around, trying to figure out what the challenge might be and then when she realizes it, she wishes that she hadn't.

There are two water towers in town, though they're old and rusted now from disuse and kept around mostly for show or because no one cares enough to take them down. A single wooden board stretches from one catwalk to the next, spanning at least twenty feet and high enough off the ground that if you slipped and fell you'd be joining Mike Peterson on the list of causalities. At least the jump from the quarry ended in a swim. Jemma can only imagine what a fall from the water towers would end in.

Fitz follows her gaze and tenses up. "Jemma. No."

Jemma forces a smile. "It'll be fine." She mutters. "Over before you know it."

Desperate to take her mind off the view and the lie that just passed her lips, Jemma looks at the crowd around her instead. She's almost surprised when she immediately spots the dark-haired girl from before. She's standing off by herself, watching the revelry take place around her. She glances over at Jemma and smiles like she's got some kind of secret and Jemma feels her heart catch and it's a little like she's standing on the edge of the quarry all over again, waiting to jump.

"What's the worst that could happen?" Fitz says, ignoring Jemma's previous comment. "You don't compete and they egg your house and call you a liar. You do compete and you fall to your death and die."

Jemma glares at him. "Well, thank you for the vote of confidence Fitz." She snaps. "The trick is to crawl across, not walk across." She tells him. "It'll be slower but I'll even out my center of balance more easily and it'll be more stable."

Fitz just nods, but he's still looking up at the plank, fretting. "Right. Excellent. And if you feel yourself start to fall, just hold on and I'll…"

"Catch me?" Jemma questions, arching an eyebrow. "It'll be fine Fitz."

When Jemma looks back at the girl, she's surprised to find her still watching her. Jemma isn't used to people watching her so closely. It's an odd sensation.

One by one, Tripp calls the names of the competitors and they go up to walk the plank. No one has fallen (not yet, anyway) but Jemma feels her heart catch in her throat when Miles loses his footing and pinwheels his arms, desperately trying to right himself. He doesn't fall and there's a collective breath of relief among all the people watching.

Jemma starts shaking the second Tripp says her name and she holds her head high as she walks through the crowd toward the ladder on the side of the water tower. Her palms are slick with sweat but she manages to keep from slipping as she climbs. She doesn't look down; she tries to block out the sounds of the cheering and the whistling and Fitz shouting her name and encouraging her. She just tries to focus on her task at hand.

It takes Jemma a few seconds to convince herself that she can do this, that she can actually step out on that piece of wood. It looks so thin from this angle, impossibly so. It looks even higher now that she's actually up on the water tower and Jemma feels an aching certainty in her chest that she's going to fall.

But she doesn't turn around. Instead she kneels down and reaches for the plank with shaking hands, crawling out on her hands and knees. The crowd below starts shouting and laughing, catcalling her as she inches across the plank. But Jemma ignores them. She doesn't care about style or grace; maybe she looks like an idiot but she's not going to be a dead idiot. Jemma scoots herself along, heart pounding, focused only on the other side of the water tower.

And suddenly she's there, pulling herself back to her feet and grabbing onto the side of the tower like it's a long lost friend. Jemma can hear Fitz's voice louder than everyone else, cheering on her success.

Jemma doesn't even remember climbing back down the water tower. All of the sudden, she's just back on the ground again and people are praising her and patting her on the back and they're people she's gone to school with for years but never even spoken to and her head is spinning and she suddenly feels light-headed and a little bit like she might fall over or just throw up all over her feet. Jemma looks up at the wooden plank stretched between the two water towers and that nauseous feeling comes roaring back and she can't believe that she did it. She walked across that thing. She made it.

Yeah, Jemma really thinks she's going to throw up.

But then Fitz is there beside her, pulling her into his arms and lifting her off her feet, spinning her around. "You did it Jem!" He yells, squeezing her tightly. "You were bloody amazing! That was…oh my god that was brilliant!"

Jemma musters a weak smile when he sets her back on her feet. "Oh, please never do that again." She mumbles. "Thank you Fitz."

Fitz is grinning at her and Jemma starts to feel a little better, warmed and centered by the smile on his face. "You were fearless." He tells her, shaking his head. "That was amazing. You made it in forty seconds."

Jemma gapes at him. Forty seconds. It felt like she was on that stupid plank for forty years. She'd completely forgotten about the fact that she was going to be timed, which was probably a good thing; if she'd remembered that she needed a good time to stay in The Game might never have moved across the plank at all.

"That's…that's pretty good, right?" Jemma questions, looking around uncertainly. Of course, there's no one around to tell her how she stands amongst the other competitors.

If the judges are hanging around, they aren't making themselves known. Another part of The Game. So many secrets. There's no telling when the next challenge is or what it will be. All that Jemma can do now is wait.

Wait. For the next challenge. Because she just completed the first. She made it. She finished. One down, only five more to go. The possibility that she could actually do this, really do this, makes Jemma's knees go weak all over again.

For some reason, Jemma is reluctant to leave even though she's already completed the challenge. There's no rule that says that the competitors have to stick around once they've performed the task but Jemma still finds herself dragging her feet, hesitating every time Fitz tries to walk her back to the car. Instead she keeps her eyes trained upward, watching as the others walk the plank. Or, fail to do exactly that. The same people who seemed to have no trouble jumping off the top of a quarry balk at the idea of crossing the plank and can't even take a single step. Jemma understands exactly how they feel. Once you're up there, it seems impossible.

If they don't cross, they're disqualified and just like that, Jemma sees the number of people that she has to beat shrink by five. One of the girls doesn't even stop crying after she's back on solid ground with her friends crowded around her, petting her head and trying to soothe her.

It doesn't take Jemma long to realize the real reason that she's been reluctant to follow Fitz to his car. Tripp consults his list and then lifts the megaphone to his lips and the name "Skye" echoes off the sides of the water towers. The crowd seems to part as the girl moves past them on her way to the ladder. Skye. Jemma watches as she moves, confident and self-assured and she knows that the reason she stayed was to see her compete. To ascertain that she would still be in The Game, so that Jemma could still have an excuse to see her. To get her name. Skye. Again, Jemma has the sensation of jumping, the feeling of her heart leaping into her throat as she starts to fall.

Jemma can't take her eyes off Skye as she climbs the ladder and steps toward the plank. She tells herself it's just to make sure that she's okay, that she doesn't fall, that she actually goes through with it. But she knows it's more than that.

The crowd starts jeering and tittering when Skye kneels down and starts crawling across the plank the same way that Jemma did half an hour before. Jemma feels herself start to smile as she watches Skye move across the beam. She wonders if she looked that silly, or if she moved that fast. It might not be a super-impressive way to cross, but it cuts out the teetering and danger of falling.

Skye makes it to the other side of the water tower and stands up, bowing and waving to the crowd below. The teasing comments and jeers quickly turn into applause and she even blows them a few kisses before starting her descent down the ladder. Jemma is grinning so wide that the smile seems strange and foreign on her face and she wonders how long it's been since she's smiled, really smiled just like this and if it's just a side effect of the adrenaline coursing through her body or something more.

Tripp announces Skye's time as forty seconds and while there are others who moved a little bit faster, there are plenty who made it across the plank slower than that. Jemma feels a thrill of pride. They made it. And yeah, she knows she shouldn't be cheering on the competition. That's pretty much the last thing you're supposed to do while playing The Game but she can't help it.

Skye walks by and locks eyes with Jemma, smiling softly. "Nice trick."

"Thanks." Jemma says, surprised that she's able to remind herself to speak at all.

And just like that, Skye is gone and Jemma wishes that she had said something more impressive and stimulating than "thanks." She can only hope that she didn't have a starry-eyed expression on her face while she said it.

Fitz elbows her and Jemma turns to look at him, surprised. "What was that?" He questions.

"What?" Jemma genuinely has no idea what he's talking about. That happens sometimes with Fitz, if she's being honest.

Fitz just looks at her and rolls his eyes. "Forget it."

Jemma wants to press the issue but she also has the feeling that she knows exactly what he was trying to say. So she'd rather just ignore him.

tbc.