Jemma settled down into the end chair of the long row of hard plastic seats at Heathrow Airport and, with barely shaking fingers, struggled to extract her book from her burgeoning backpack. The one she wanted though was stuck, caught between her organic chemistry textbook and the sleek silver digital camera her Mum had bequeathed to her before they left the house and shoved under the packet of cheese and onion crisps her Dad had snuck in while Mum was off digging for the gift.
"It's not every day our only daughter goes off to America."
"Yeah Shrimp, you'll have to show us what your new fancy digs look like."
Cole had rolled his eyes at Dad's ever attempts to be cool like his teenagers and Mason had only squeezed the arm around her shoulders tighter. Then, she'd left her older brothers and family home behind her to head off to the airport.
The book tugged free and the crisps crunched to smithereens. Jemma settled her bag on the seat next to her and paused to listen to the announcement over the loudspeaker. It was the boarding announcement for a flight to Paris, not hers. Her stomach rolled a little. She had another hour and a half before her flight would be called.
Rushing through a deep breath, she ran her fingers lightly over the worn spine of the extracted book.
Margaret Carter, The Unsung Hero of WWII
Jemma had read the biography more times than she could count, enough so that she could quote entire passages of it off the top of her head. This edition had been a Christmas gift from 'Santa' when she was seven or eight. She'd immediately delved into the story of the secret strength behind the Howling Commandos and her Mum had been forced to set the book atop the refrigerator when it came time for Christmas dinner to stop Jemma from reading it under the table. Her interest had only been reinvigorated when, a year prior, two agents had knocked on the front door informing Mr. and Mrs. Simmons of their interest in their daughter and Jemma had been introduced to S.H.I.E.L.D.
Her stomach twisted and her cold fingers jittered just slightly as the reality sunk down on her. She was alone. She was about to leave her homeland and go study in a foreign country and she was alone. It was hard to admit she was afraid. But fear was what made her hands shake and her stomach twist and turn and her tongue feel too thick in her throat.
Up until that morning she'd been excited. She was excited. But she was also alone. And she was also afraid. Who would blame her, she was only sixteen.
Jemma opened the book and tried very hard to sink into the familiar comfort of the words she knew by heart.