Author's Note: Unfortunately, due to a copyright note I received, I had to remove song lyrics from this piece. I apologize for the inconvenience, and suggest that you listen to "Some Nights" by fun. while reading this story. Enjoy!

I know what that is. Why can't I think of what it's called? It's the micro... micro... m-i-c-r-o... micro-defibrillator. Yes, that's it! Thank you, Simmons. I know I can get this done. If they'd just give me a bloody chance, I could show them all. They still need me. I haven't been assigned to a project in months. Not a real project, anyways. Just this... this... no, no, no; why can't I think of it? It's the... the w-w-word. Yes, I need the word. Oh come on, it's a - oh, yes! The biometric design research! Yes. Thanks, Simmons. I don't know what I'd do without you, to be honest. I've tried talking to the lot of them, but we both know that never works out properly. I know! It's like... it's like... they, yes, that's the word. It's like they see right through me. Like they're trying to humour me with small level 1 jobs. Simple biometrics designs; hah. They don't appreciate me like you do, Simmons. That's why I... what's why I... n-need you. I need you, Jemma. I need you to come back to me.

I can't do this on my own.

Some days, I almost have myself convinced that you're standing right there, right in front of me. Some days, I let myself believe that it's you. I want it to be you. I can't... no, what is it... I can't... I can't focus without you. And you're always helping me. Making my head clear. Reminding me of the words. Jemma Simmons, you're my... you're my... oh come on, how do I say it? No, no, no, not like that. Shush, just let me try it again, please. Jemma Simmons... I... I... oh, what is it... come on, Jem, what's the word? Why won't you tell me? Wait.

Jemma Simmons, I love you.

I keep telling myself that I'm doing this for a purpose. Leo Fitz, the most important person in my life, is hanging by a thread, practically waiting for me to complete this mission. I'm constantly bombarded by thoughts that scrutinize me for my life choices; and perhaps those thoughts are right. But there is one thing that logic cannot beat, and that one thing is friendship. A true friendship, the type that Fitz and I have, well... that's worth crossing any boundaries for.

Even if crossing the boundaries lead me straight into Hydra territory.

Holding a gun doesn't feel natural. It weighs just a little more than an ICER - far too bulky in my hands. There's too much deadly power inside this black metal casing. Fitz is obviously smarter than the run-of-the-mill weapons manufacturer. ICERs are nonlethal, energy conservative, and light. The moment I get back to the Bus - right after I give Fitz the antidote I'm going to receive as payment - I am going to run to the lab and just build something with Fitz. I crave the feeling of a hologram table next to me as I tinker away with chemicals and artifacts. I honestly cannot remember the last time I worked in a laboratory... not since I left the Bus, anyways.

I wonder if they hate me for what I did. I've allied with Hydra, after all, and for an antidote that S.H.I.E.L.D. claimed impossible to create.

I wonder if Fitz knows that I'm fighting for him.

I wonder if he knows how much he means to me.