AN: So this is a little something I've been working on since 3x02 and I've finally finished it and I'm really proud of it. Especially since it's the first thing I've written and finished in months.
Disclaimer: I obviously don't own any of these characters. If I did they probably wouldn't go through so much hell.
The sand is ruthless and she's just so tired. And her arms are screaming for a break. She's holding them in front of her face, allowing herself a little room to have her eyes open and also try to keep the sand from obscuring her vision too much.
She wants so desperately to give up – she's fought for so long. How long has it even been? Hours? Weeks? Months? She's not sure anymore, if she ever was.
You're tired.
You've got to keep going.
It's okay to give up.
Don't give up.
Her mind keeps going back and forth with this internal battle. To give up or to keep fighting? She sighs. It would just be so easy to just stop – to give her exhausted body what it wants. To rest.
It's alright, Jemma.
She's just about to finally give into this voice inside her head when she hears it. The echo of her name in the distance. A part of her leaves it to the fact that maybe she's just hallucinating. But then she swears that she hears it again.
She's widely looking around, trying desperately to the find the source of the sound. And then by some miracle, she sees a flare shoot up in the sky some distance away. And maybe this could be her way off this godforsaken planet or maybe she's lost the rest of her mind. Whatever it is, she has to try.
She heads in that direction and hopes that this is real.
It's when she's walked for what feels like forever with nothing but the sandstorm obscuring her vision and her hearing that she begins to think she is hallucinating. That the red flare was nothing but a mirage created by her tired mind.
Maybe you really are losing it.
Shut up.
She's getting annoyed with this voice inside her head, which is doing is taunting her more than it's helping her. She sighs and uses a nearby rock to lean against. She lays her against back against the cool, rocky surface and forces her eyes closed – mostly to protect them from the sand that's refusing to let up.
She's fighting the urge to allow her body to slide down the rock into a sitting position.
Not yet. There's still fight in you. There has to be.
She starts repeating that to herself as if it's actually going to do any good. But it's worth a shot right?
That's when she hears it. Maybe she's still hallucinating but she swears she heard her name over the roaring sound of the sand. She shakes her head.
Stop it Jemma. She tells herself, not needing to get her hopes up for nothing.
But then, there it is again. It's something, she's sure of it. It's that faint sound of her name that has her pushes off from the rock and fighting against the sand once more.
"Jemma!"
The more she walks, the clearer and more pronounced the voice becomes. It's the main thing driving her now. She knows that voice; it's the voice of the person who's always been there for her and always will be.
"Fitz!" she finds herself shouting over the screams of the sand, hoping that he can actually hear her. Hoping that she's not imagining everything.
But with a few more steps, through the haze of her vision she sees the outline of someone's body. Someone else fighting against the sand – trying to get to her.
"Fitz," she shouts again, fighting to get closer.
They meet in the middle and she grasps his hand in her own and he's real. He's really here and she's finally going to get off this damn planet…Although, she's struggling to keep a strong hold on his hand. She can feel herself slipping and before she knows it, her hand falls from his grip and she's slipping and landing on her stomach in the sand.
She doesn't let this deter her. She's forcing herself forward on her knees with her arm stretched out in front of her. Hoping she finds him again. Needing to find him – needing to be out of this hell she fell into.
A hand grasps hers and she's struggling to force her fingers to grip it tighter. "Jemma, just hold on," Fitz tells her. And she's trying, really she is. But it's just so hard and she's just so tired.
She can't hold on anymore….she just can't.
"I'm sorry, Fitz," is the last thing she says before she slips out of his grasp, and he disappears from her sight.
Jemma startles awake, her breaths coming shaky and uneven, her head and vision foggy.
She quickly takes in her surroundings and realizes that she's no longer in unfamiliar territory. She's no longer trapped on an unfamiliar planet – she's home. She's safe.
There is no sand, widely attacking her. There is no fear that she's going to be left behind.
Jemma's gaze immediately falls on Fitz, propped up against the wall, his head titled back, sleeping. She pushes herself out from the confines of the bed and walks the short distance between them. She reaches out slowly, not sure if this is real or if her mind is playing tricks on here, but she's relieved when her fingers brush against his hand and he's real.
He's actually there and she breathes out a sigh of relief.
She settles herself on the bed next to him and lays down with her head in his lap. She takes a breath and his scent fills her nose and she's comforted just by the fact that he's there. Her left hand comes up to rest on his thigh as if to assure herself that he's not going anywhere, that she's not going anywhere.
She works on settling her breathing, trying to calm her racing heart. It's easier knowing that Fitz is right here than it would be if she were alone. That much she knows is true.
He's her best friend, her home, her safe haven and with him by her side, she knows she can get through this. As long as they're together. She just has to keep holding on.
Before she knows it, her eyes are closing and she finds herself falling into a peaceful and uninterrupted sleep.