A/N: Hey guys! This is my first official Fanfiction- i've written others, but never posted them. I am a freelance (for fun) writer- writing is one of my passions. I decided to post this and continue with it because of one reason- AOS ruined my life. I love it dearly, but the emotional wreckage it has caused me…..oh, my. Writing happy AU's has really helped, and I decided to try to pass on some of that love :).
This is a Agents Of Shield AU, with the main ship as Fitzsimmons and a decent amount of Skyeward in there too- with the inevitable hints of Philinda. Spoilers, obviously. I will most likely be posting once or twice a week, maybe more often once i get into the feel of the story- this is definitely going to be a multi-chapter fic. In the beginning, each chapter will be short- one for each day that Fitz is in a comma. Please rate and review- you know how it is. Now, after that long a/n….Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own any Agents Of Shield characters or ideas. I wish I did.
DAY 1: It was a hot day on the outskirts of the small village somewhere in Ecuador- not that it made any difference in the cool med wing of the BUS. There, in the med wing, sat Jemma Simmons. Jemma was wringing her already raw hands and staring at the same thing she had been staring at for hours- or years, as it seemed to her. A young man's chest- one specific ying man, her best friend, Leo Fitz. Director Fury had come out of hiding to save them 2 days ago, but just last night had Simmons awoken. Fury had originally forced her to stay in the tube that had been keeping her alive, but after a hour or two of begging, pleading, and a little outright screaming, Fury opened the tube for her and let her rush to Fitz's bedside. She hadn't left since.
Jemma stood up and walked to the bed, as she had been doing every couple minutes. She "fixed" the already perfect sheet and plumped the already plumped pillow. She looked at Leo. She reached out a hand and swept his curls back. She stroked his cheek, looking for any signs of awakening she knew in the pit of her stomach wouldn't be there. She told stories to him, stories he already knew, stories they made together. How they met, their first project together, the first time they got drunk in The Boiler Room, their graduation, when they found out they would be partners. The words flowed freely, as she had told them to him many timesin th He looked so peaceful- like the angel he was. Her angel, the man that God decided to give to her, regardless of the fact that he was much too good, much too sweet, much too happy. She had ruined him.