Dark. It's dark when he wakes again. He rubs at his eyes, struggling to make out his surroundings. Where is he? Was any of it real or was it all just his tired broken imagination conjuring up what he wanted most.
He hears a soft sigh and it pulls him back out of his thoughts. He looks down to see her. He reaches his hand down to brush her shoulder.
She's real. This isn't a dream.
He feels her shift slightly at his touch and he stills not wanting to wake her. Her breathing settles back into a quiet rhythm and he lets out a sigh of his own.
She's safe. She's home and she's safe. And that is all that matters right now.
He'd wanted to hold her of course, to hold on and never let her go.
He could remember so clearly how it had felt when her hand had slipped from him, the fear that he would never see her again. He'd been living with that fear for months but only in that moment had it felt real.
He never wanted to feel that way again.
She moves again, quicker. It's a nightmare.
"My Jemma…" he whispers, barely audible. "What 've you 'ad to live through?"
Fitz moves his hand from her shoulder to brush her hair from her face before placing it back. Her breath hitches before she settles again as his thumb travels in small circles on the side of her arm.
"Don't worry, Jem. You're safe. You're not goin' anywhere and neither am I." He shifts slightly to settle against the wall, careful not to jostle her. "Sleep now and I'll be here when you wake up, for as long as you want me. I'm not letting go this time."
He tilts his head back against the wall behind him, falling asleep to the sound of her quiet breathing