The metal prison hurtled through the air, Jemma's scream echoing and Leo's yell cut short with the impact, metal striking water. Fitz couldn't remember much. The sensation of falling, then sharp pain as their cage jolted and splashed down.
Then nothing.
"All right. Just gonna need you guys to answer a few questions. A few psycho-analytic, non-sequitur questions."
"A lie detector."
"The lie detector, Agent Coulson. This baby measures galvanic skin response, oxygen consumption, micro expressions, bio feedback, brainwaves, pupil dilation, voice biometrics- Ninety-six variables in all. Fury designed this himself. He wanted a lie detector Romanoff couldn't beat."
"Did she?" Fitz glanced over at his dark, solemn peer.
"Like Fury would tell!"
"Okay, the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get to work." Coulson turned to the group lined up next to him. "So who wants to go first?"
…
"We're gonna start with some easy questions and establish a baseline. Can I have your full name?"
"Leopold Fitz."
"Eye color?"
"Blue."
"Have you ever been married?" Leo was distracted, glancing around, trying to figure out what each and every camera was, watching the way they focused and the lenses dilated. He'd never seen machinery quite like it before.
"No."
"Please list your immediate family."
"Just me and my mom."
"What's the difference between an egg and a rock?"
"Well, that's absurd." Leo's eyes pulled away from the cameras and his eyebrows scrunched together, head shaking slightly as he spoke. "The differences are innumerable. If you want, I could start listing them, but we'd be here all day."
"Exactly what your girlfriend said," muttered the test-giver.
"She's not-" The screen flashed red and the short, pudgy man raised an eyebrow with a knowing smirk curling up the edges of his lips. Nonetheless, he continued.
"You wash up on a deserted island alone. Sitting on the sand is a box. What is in that box?" A thousand possibilities rushed through the engineer's mind, finally settling on the one thing he would need to survive. …Not that he would be willing admit it, though.
"… How big is the box?"
"Just say the first answer that comes into your mind. What's in the box?" he repeated with a touch more force. And so he blurted out the answer.
"Simmons."
The world was bright and gritty underhand when he woke. The sun reflected off of the water lapping at his legs and he groaned, shifting and accessing his health in his groggy state. Leo couldn't remember the last time his tongue had felt so dry, or, in fact, so salty. He was sure if he looked in the mirror, the muscle would be covered in minuscule white crystals. His arm still ached with pain, but was dulled and only stimulated by attempts to move. He let it hang by his side as he righted himself on the sand. Slowly, slowly, memory came back. As he crawled away from lapping waves, he saw Ward pulling the lever. Heard Jemma's scream. Felt the throbbing pain as he blacked ou- Jemma.
Panic. Nothing but panic.
You wash up on a deserted island alone.
Throwing his head back and forth, ignoring the sharp bursts of red in his vision, he scanned the beach for a sign. For anything.
A large shape in the distance. Rectangular.
Sitting on the sand is a box.
He's stumbling, half-running, half-falling his way to it. He's begging, pleading he's right. Reaches the edge and looks down through broken glass splattered around the edges with a touches of red.
What's in the box?
"Simmons," he murmurs in relief, seeing her curled on her side like a cat in the sunlight. Her hair had come loose from the ponytail and was tangled with sand and seawater, blood caking on her fingers and a bit of glass sticking out of her shoulder. And yet he had never been so relieved to see her, the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed in sleep. He swung open the door with a grunt and hopped down into the container with her. Bends down next to her and touches her cheek with one hand, wiping away a drop of blood. She mumbles something in her sleep and curls up tighter, and he smiles.
They were going to be okay.
After all, they were together.