A/N: This story has been playing in my head since the season three premiere. Personally, I think that once Jemma returns we'll be seeing the effects that her time away have had on her mental health. This story is my current head canon based around that speculation.

A warning in advance: this story deals with PTSD.

Fitz hears her screams while he sleeps, believes that they are a product of his own nightmares that he can't shake; it is what he can only imagine she experienced on the other side. He dreams of what little he knows, mostly assumptions built upon morsels of truth.

With her return it seems that what Death wrought is only more walls between them, but he digs for answers when she's not looking and emerses himself in the mythology of Mot and Hel. And when she is, he forces a smile that he knows looks hollow and asks inane questions that he already knows the answer to.

What is the volatility operator for hypereconomic stability axiom?

Are alien bionts chemically harmful?

Is there abiogenesis on Kyln?

She gamely replies, her own smile never reaching her eyes. She's going through the motions and he can see it as plain as the day. Dr. Garner cautions him against confronting Jemma and he grumbles with resistance. She's still in a very volatile stage, the doctor insists; she needs to regain her confidence slowly and rebuild trust with those around her.

Fitz always hated psychology and now he has a clear answer as to why.

The thrill of discovery that used to sprinkle lightness in her words is now dull or, more horrifying to even consider, gone. He wants to ask her if she's okay, but begrudgingly he heeds Dr. Garner's advice. His resilience wanes with every day that passes.

It's been almost three weeks since her return. He tells Daisy about his nightmares where he hears Jemma scream and she admits to suffering as well. For her, Jemma's screams come in the midst of her dreams about Cal and Jiaying and what life would've been like without Terrigen crystals.

They sit in silence; neither has a solution to the issue and both believe Dr. Garner to varying degrees when he tells them that it will take time. Even they too need to heal.

And so Fitz continues to ignore what he should've realized all along.

It's not until Daisy works with their newest Inhuman recruit: a young girl from Jersey City who'd emerged from her terrigenesis cocoon a polymorph, that Fitz is faced with his own ignorance and stupidity.

Daisy and the girl use the base's gymnasium to experiment with the limits of the girl's abilities. Kamala is sweet natured and determined, eager to become a hero and join the ranks of those she'd long admired. Jemma watches from a safe distance in order to calculate the girl's morphogen as she stretches, deforms and expands.

But Kamala is still inexperienced and Daisy has to use her own seismic abilities to stop her from hurting herself. It's a pretty routine reaction, the base long used to Daisy's powers taking them unawares.

Fitz is in the lab when the bunker sways and jolts. A few interns look up cautiously as the beakers clink together, vibrating on their shelves and threatening to topple to the floor. It's not an unusual quake. In fact, it's quite unremarkable compared to the ones the base had previously experienced. But this time the rumble of energy is accompanied by a haunting scream, the very same he'd been hearing in his dreams.

Daisy calls for him over the intercom, but he's already halfway down the hall, very aware of who's scream it is.

"Where is she?" He demands, breathless, his heart practically beating through his chest.

Daisy grips the shoulders of a frightened Kamala, rooting her in place and preventing her from morphing. "I don't know! She went toward the offices."

He barely nods as he turns on his heels and bolts from the gym.

He calls her name, trying to give off the appearance of strength and confidence, when on the inside he's breaking apart with fear.

Eventually he finds her in Coulson's office cowering, hidden from sight, under his desk. He presses his hand against the table top and kneels on one leg.

"Jemma?" He practically whispers her name, alarm marking every syllable.

Her eyes squeeze shut tighter as she pulls her folded legs closer to her chest and tucks her head against her knees. He can hear her jagged breath and he gently places his palm against her shoulder in an attempt at calming her. She jerks her body away and digs herself deeper into the recess of the desk.

"Jemma?" He tries again. "It's me. Fitz."

She still shakes with fear and he debates between staying with her until she relents and calling for Dr. Garner.

"Jemma!" His voice cracks as he instinctively chooses the former, knowing full well he could never leave her. He curves his back as he moves more fully onto both his knees and sits back on his heels. "Look at me Jemma. It's Fitz." He reaches for her again, repeating his name over and over, hoping that it helps in some strange way.

When his palm presses hesitantly against her shoulder for the second time, she doesn't shrink away. Instead he hears her faintly whisper something. He leans in closer and hears her say it again. It's his name, almost inaudible as she mutters it against the skin of her arms.

"You're not alone anymore," he says, daring to let his hand caress soft circles against her back. "I'm here, okay? You're not alone."

With every repetition, her body relaxes ever so slightly. Soon she shifts toward him, her hands clinging desperately at his shoulders. Her nails dig into the fabric of his shirt, holding him tight against her. She says nothing and explains nothing, but he doesn't need her too. It's in her wrecked sobs that realization finally dawns on him: the screams he'd heard weren't from his own nightmares; they were hers.

He leads her to his own room and lets her fold against him as they lie on his bed. He stares at the ceiling as her breath finally, at long last, calms. He watches her as her chest rises and falls with a gentle cadence, masking the horrors that he now knows she hides. It's in the darkness of his room that he makes a vow to help her find her light again.

"I'll always fight for you," he whispers and she shifts willfully against him, her arm wrapping tighter at his waist. He glances down at her, her hair softly tickling his chin and he knows that what he says aloud is the truth.

"Always," he adds with greater certainty. Even in the face of Death.

.:FIN:.

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