Hey guys! So after that intense, heartbreaking, gut-wrenching episode, I HAD to come up with a fic to write. So, I wrote this. Also because I love the idea of Fitz hitting a punching bag.

I do understand Jemma's side and I feel like a lot of people are hating on her character, but shouldn't. If you look at it objectively, her actions are completely justified. This fic looks at both sides, but obviously, FITZSIMMONS. Please read the A/N before you read the fic!

Inspired by what Elizabeth said about the episode: "But their relationship was born out of her trying to get back to Fitz and that's what hurts the most."

(So, I was reading an article about the episode and their first paragraph ended, "she found love in a hopeless place." -_- Bud-dum tsss)

A/N: Logically, I know that the date of when Fitz burst into the room with the Monolith and broke all our hearts doesn't coincide with the day where Jemma lost all hope, but let's just pretend that it does, shall we?

Enjoy~

Disclaimer: I do not own Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. nor any of its characters. If I did, there wouldn't be this love triangle.

Is anybody out there?
Is anybody listening?
Does anybody really know?
If it's the end or the beginning,
A cry
A rush
From one breath
Is all we're waiting for
Sometimes the one we're taking
Changes every one before

It's everything you wanted, it's everything you don't
It's one door swinging open and one door swinging closed
Some prayers find an answer
Some prayers never know
We're holding on and letting go

Sometimes we're holding angels
And we never even know
Don't know if we'll make it,
But we know,
We just can't let it show

He understands.

He shouldn't, but he does.

He understands why and how, but that doesn't mean he likes it nor does it mean he accepts it. In fact, he absolutely despises everything that's going on and he refuses to accept it.

He'd been under this false premise the whole time she'd been back. And maybe it wasn't entirely false, maybe she still loved him, but that truth didn't change the fact that she was in love with another man – a jock, no less. God, this was so cliché.

He had been her hope, but once the only tangible connection to him was gone in favor of trying to find way out – the irony isn't lost upon him – he was gone, reduced to a blip in her mind. He had been replaced with someone else, the only source of hope she could cling onto. Their connection was so visceral; so primal. He may not have two PhDs in biology and chemistry nor one in psychology, but he was smart enough to know that he couldn't compete with that.

And as much as he hated the guy, he felt so guilty for it. He was indebted to the guy and immensely grateful for giving Jemma hope when she had none, for protecting her and loving her. Who knows what might've happened if he hadn't been there?

Fitz threw another punch onto the heavy bad and watched as it swung back and forth, his ragged breathing and the clanking of the chain that was holding the bag up filling the eerily silent room.

He hates this whole situation.

Right then, a sudden rage built up inside him as he struck the leather bag hard with his gauze-wrapped hand. He couldn't stop. Another strike swung the bag high and echoed throughout the room. And another and another and another. He kept on going until his brain screamed for oxygen and his hands felt numb. He held onto the top of the bag, his head resting against the leather exterior.

If he hadn't thought of the clever quip he'd managed to finally say to her about modifying the dispersal pattern of her crystalline nucleation process by using a delivery mechanism he'd invented, they would've never met. They would've just been each other's competition forever. He thanks whatever heavenly deity for giving him the urge that day to sneak a peek at her notes during a rather boring lecture in Professor Vaughn's ethics and history class. He shudders to think of a world where they weren't inseparable. And if it weren't for the sheer amount of years that they'd known each other, he thinks that she would've never even given him a second glance towards a romantic relationship, let alone fall in love with him. He knows that it sounds harsh, but it's true. He knows all too well of the types of guys she goes for – muscular, brave, confident guys like Will – not lanky, uncoordinated, cowardly guys like him. And truth be told, she deserved much more than him. She deserved someone who would always be by her side, never doubt her loyalty, and protect her fiercely; everything that he'd failed to do.

He understood it, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

But as he returned to his method of stress-relieving, he couldn't help but think about how perfect her smile was and how captivating her eyes were. He couldn't stop thinking about how she had kissed his cheek after she'd sacrificed herself to save the rest of the team. And how she'd peppered his face with kisses before he gave her the last puff of oxygen at the bottom of the ocean. And how she packed his favorite sandwich and wrote Love, Jemma. And how she held his wrist to stop him from leaving with Coulson so she could tell him that maybe there was something to talk about. And how she smiled shyly at him as she agreed to dinner. And how she hugged him tightly when he'd pulled her back to Earth. And how he woke up to her sleeping against his knee. And the feel of her hand tightly in his as he'd led her back into the lab for the first time since she'd been back.

He hadn't realized someone had entered the gym until he heard someone scream his name.

"FITZ!"

He stopped striking, but the numbness remained. Blood pounded in his ears as his chest rose and fell rapidly, his body trying fervently to replenish his oxygen supply. His vision was a little fuzzy, but as it cleared up, he could make out the person who called his name.

The very person that had him in this situation.

"Jemma," he breathed. "What, uh, what are you doing here?" He was still panting.

"I was, uh," she cleared her throat, "I was looking for you actually."

"Okay, um," Fitz walked towards the small table against the pillar to grab a towel and his water bottle. "Um, what do ya need?"

Needless to say, the tension between them exceeded awkward. And he'd thought that nothing could be as awkward and tense between them than during his recovery phase after she'd come back from her undercover mission. God, he'd been so wrong.

"I need your help with the D.W.A.R.F.s."

Fitz draped the towel around his neck after dabbing it on his forehead. He turned back to her and drank a sip of water. "Sure, what did you -"

"Oh my God, Fitz!" She ran towards him and tossed his water bottle on the table.

"Hey! I was drinking tha' y'know!"

Jemma held his hands in hers and it took all his willpower not to grab her and kiss her. He gulped and stuttered, "W-w-wha' are you - "

"Your hands, Fitz!" He looked down at them. She was right to be concerned. Blood slowly seeped through the layers of gauze. "Come on," she said, dragging him towards the med bay.

If he hadn't been so annoyed by the appearance of Dr. Simmons, he would've noticed the puffiness of her eyes and the tears that threatened to fall.

.

Jemma smiled. It was two weeks since they had figured out a way to open the portal long enough to bring back Will from the alien planet.

And she was happy.

For the first time in a long time, she'd allowed herself to be careless about something. And the result was overwhelmingly positive. She didn't overthink things like she usually did; things just happened spontaneously.

Will was still getting adjusted to being back on Earth and accustomed to the events and advancements of the last 14 years, but all in all, everything was great.

She opened up a cabinet underneath one of the workstations and pulled out the case that held the D.W.A.R.F.s. It was nice to see them again; it reminded her of a much simpler time. Everything had been so black and white then; they were oblivious to the slow resurrection of Hydra.

She picked up Bashful and smiled. Without knowing, her elbow hit the side of the black case which subsequently moved the mouse of the computer in front of her. The screen lit up to life and the desktop's main screen stared back at her. She wouldn't have thought anything of it, but she noticed that there was a new icon on the screen. Curious, she put Bashful back in his place and clicked on the icon.

A video appeared on the screen and she shuddered in horror at what was looking back at her. The Monolith in all its glory stood in its cage, center stage. She moved the mouse to exit the application, but she stopped herself when the door of the restricted room burst open. It was Fitz.

He was wielding a shotgun in his hands and she watched in equal parts awe and shock as Fitz shot the strap that wrapped around the case and the hinges of the door with deadly accuracy. If she hadn't been so overwhelmed, she would've been impressed - Fitz hated guns. Back at the Academy, while they were figuring out how to find the right dosage of dendrotoxin to use in the ICERs, he had told her that he hated guns because of the immense power that they had; the ultimatum of life and death. He was proud to have took part in making a non-lethal weapon.

She watched as he stood inside the case with the Monolith, staring at it. She'd thought that the screen had frozen, but suddenly, a piercing scream filled the empty lab.

"Do something! DO SOMETHING!" She heard Fitz yell over and over and over at the unmoving object. She raised a hand to her mouth, feeling tears pool at the crevice between her hand and her cheeks. Fitz kept on screaming and crying and punching the giant rock, hoping that aggravating it would make it… well, do something.

She was just about to yell at the screen and at "him" to stop, but stopped herself when two other people burst into the room, followed by the rest of the team. It took two of them to pull him back as Mack and Skye – Daisy – closed the door to the cage. It turned back into liquid form.

He had been a few seconds away from being sucked into the portal and teleported to where she had been stuck in for six months.

She wondered how things would've gone differently if he had been sucked in. Would they have ever gotten out?

At least, they would've been together.

As she watched as Fitz fell to the floor and Bobbi wiped something off of his cheek, she hit the space bar, pausing the video. Her eyes drifted towards the date in the top right corner. She quickly did the calculations in her head.

The same day she had lost all hope.

Maybe they were telepathic.

An immense wave of guilt washed over her. The day Fitz had lost hope, he had been willing to sacrifice his life and be swallowed by a giant rock – unknown to the fate that lied behind it and not even caring that it could've been death – just to be with her. And that same day, she had "run" into the arms of another man. He had been a few seconds away from being the hope she needed after she watched the bottle that contained everything that was needed to free them from hell get smashed into a thousand pieces.

She thought back to that moment when she'd lost hope. She hadn't even thought about Fitz and how he had probably been working non-stop to rescue her.

"I know you won't give up, so I won't either."

He never gave up. She did.

She needed to go find him. Now.

A/N: Please leave a review if you liked it! Thanks for reading!

A/N: The song is called "Holding On and Letting Go" by Ross Copperman