Jemma was lost.

Not in any physical way. She hadn't left the BUS since the former director had transported her partner into the medical bay. Leo now lay where Skye used to, comatose and still. As the biochemist, she stood in for any doctor. Every day she would care for him, check his readings, and make sure he was stable. Afterwards, she would sit next to the bed, his limp hand clasped by hers and her eyes as vacant as his body seemed to be.

Skye had noticed first. The empty, quiet way that she would run through daily motions. That look in her eyes, like she was a million miles away and was too tired to come back. Some nights, the hacker would hear Fitz's bunk door slide open and muffled sobs pouring into his pillow. More frequently, though, a member of the team would wake and find Jemma with a cup of coffee and a stuffed monkey sitting next to her patient.

Nobody ever mentioned anything. She was coping as best she could, but it was plain to everyone that she was missing half of herself. It was like she had been codependent for so long, she wasn't sure how to proceed. When Skye confronted May about it, she told her that Simmons was handling things pretty well, considering the two had hardly been separated since age fifteen, when they had entered college together. They had even lived together since they were twenty. Even so, Skye was worried.

It was three months into the coma that Jemma finally seemed to be fraying. She now only left Leo for meals and work, and, on rare occasions, sleep. It was during a mission that Skye noticed the shaking. Jemma's hands were quivering, couldn't stop trembling. Working at the hologram table, the hacker vowed to keep an eye on her friend. Jemma was slowly becoming undone. As the biochemist transferred a petri dish from the cabinet to the table, the shaking dislodged the container and it shattered against the floor.

"Oh, clumsy me," she muttered, trying to still her hands. She fumbled for the broom and dustpan, her shaking hands making it harder than she thought possible.

"Whoa, easy, Jemma," said Skye, closing down the hologram and crouching next to her friend. Taking the broom and dustpan from Jemma, she noticed the bags under her eyes, the number of coffee cups sprinkled around the room. "Simmons, how long has it been since you slept? Properly, not slumped over in the med bay." The scientist shrugged. "Jemma."

"Maybe… a week? Two? I don't know." Skye settled back on her heels.

"Weeks, Jemma? No, you need sleep." As Skye stood, Jemma started to protest a bit, claiming she was fine, that she needed to clean up. "I'll clean up. Do you really think that Fitz would really want you to do this to yourself? Come on, Jemma," she pleaded, extending her hand. Slowly, she took it.

Skye went the extra mile to make sure Jemma was asleep. She stood outside her room, waiting for Jemma to get dressed in her pajamas, then escorted her to Fitz's room and left her there, curled up with a stuffed monkey and her nose buried in the pillow.

As much as Skye tried, though, there was only so much that she could make Jemma do. After fourteen hours of sleep, Jemma was up again, still working. After the mission was complete, she was back at Leo's bedside, warm hands clasped around a cold one. Coulson was wandering that night and found her sobbing, blubbering to the engineer.

"I'm so sorry, Leo. It should have been me. I love you. Why did you do this to me? I love you, too. I'm so sorry I didn't say it before." She was gasping for breath, heaving for air. "Oh, Leo." A fresh wave of tears engulfed her, and she held his hand to her lips. Coulson just stood in the shadows, watching as she cried her soul out to the man she loved.

Time crawled on, and Jemma was continuing to deteriorate. Skye was sneaking sleeping pills into her food just to get her to rest. Coulson and May took her off of missions and let her devote her time to caring for Fitz. The poor girl was found at his bedside whenever Skye didn't drug her.

And then Ward's trial came.

As a former agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., he had the right to a full trial under their court. Coulson's entire team was called on to testify. Thus, the group ended up in a courtroom, Jemma away from Fitz for the first time in weeks and Skye facing the man she was torn to pieces about. The two had their hands clasped together and May was sitting next to them like a guard, arms crossed and death in her gaze. Coulson and Triplett were statues, giving away no emotion or sign of residual feelings. They were in the front row, the main speakers and the only people to testify other than Ward himself.

The hearing proceeded formally. Each had their turn to speak, and even Simmons retained posture and poise. They documented what had happened to them with stone faces and straight backs, showing little to no emotion. Ward did the same, only glancing over to look at Skye once as he was sentenced to life in the Fridge and led away.

As the group packed up to go, Skye and Simmons whispered quickly to each other and faced Coulson.

"Sir, I'd like permission to speak to Ward before he is taken away." Coulson narrowed his eyes and examined Jemma's stoic face and Skye's stare that screamed "Do it" behind her.

"Very well, granted. I'll speak to the guards."

Ward was then transferred to the BUS and locked in the interrogation room. Coulson then called for a briefing. "Team, we have been assigned to deliver former Agent Ward to the Fridge. On the trip there, whomever wishes to speak to him may, so long as they clear it with myself or Agent May. Dismissed." Simmons and Skye glanced at each other. Coulson interrupted them with "One at a time. Go for it."

The instant Simmons was let into the chamber, she smacked Ward as hard as she could across the face. Tears were glistening in her eyes as she backhanded him, throwing his head to the side and reopening a cut on his lip. "You-" she said, swinging again, "-bastard!" she finished, backhanding him once more. Ward adjusted his jaw as she stood in front of him, breathing heavily.

"He trusted you, Ward!" she screamed. "He swore you were a good man up until the moment we hit the water! Even when we had all given up, Coulson, May, Skye, Triplett, he still believed you were good! That you cared! And you took that and you crushed it! You nearly killed him! He is in a coma right now and it's all-" she slapped him, "-your-" each word was a blow, "-bloody-" he was bleeding now, red scratches across his face, "-FAULT!" She struck him so hard, the chair tipped off balance and his eyes widened as he fell backwards. The slamming, clattering noise of the chair and its occupant hitting the ground caused Skye to rush in, worried that Ward had somehow escaped and Simmons was in danger. Instead, she got a tearful Jemma rushing out, leaving a thoroughly shocked convict behind.

After she scrubbed the blood out from under her nails, Jemma went back to Leo's side. Clutching his hand, she ended up passed out, slumped over and half on the cot, fingers entwined with his.

An unknown length of time later, she woke up to someone gently squeezing her hand.

"Jemma," a voice called. She knew that voice. Eyes fluttered open to see Leo sitting in front of her, blinking with a confused wrinkle in his brow. "Jemma?" She was speechless. Slowly, she pulled herself upright, wondering, hoping.

"…Leo?" The edges of his lips turned up in a smile.

"Hey, Jems." With a cry of joy and happy tears, she kissed him like she had before he had pushed that button. Sweet, tender kisses, all over his face. He was smiling, gently squeezing her hands and giving her a quick kiss on the lips when she paused. Her eyes were full of tears and for a bit, they just sat together, her eyes overflowing with happy tears and his just taking her in, their hands interlocked and holding on to each other. After a while, he broke the silence with, "Now, if ya' don' mind, where are we and how long have I been out?"

A few hours had passed, filled with the team's joy, the entire story of what had happened while he was away, and lots of tests. As far as Simmons could find, his motor skills were a little off, but would improve with time and rest. Other than that, he seemed perfectly well. Jemma never thought she could be more grateful. He was able to walk to his bunk with some minor stabilizations and Jemma waited outside his door until he was dressed. Sitting on the edge of his bed, she told him the truth. That she loved him, too. That she was lost without him. That she-

She was cut off by his kiss. It was a warm, loving, tender kiss, full of all of the things she had missed over the past four months. As he ran his fingers through her hair, she couldn't help but wonder if the day could really get any better at this point.

They fell asleep together, her curled up in his arms, smiles on their faces. Her hand was entwined with one of his, holding on as if she was scared it was just a dream. With a touch of humor and levity in his voice, Leo sleepily asked "So you want to tell me why my bed was rumpled and yours had an inch layer o' dust?"

"Deduce that, Watson," she mumbled.

"I thought you were Watson."

Jemma's thoughts spun over their own little Reichenbach fall, her own mourning period for her Sherlock. "Maybe you're right."

"Y' know I'm gonna hang onto tha'."

"Love you."

"Love you, too."

And the Jemma slumbered off into the first contented sleep she'd had in months.