HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA

No. That was not funny AOS. I am like numb and I want to cry. Please don't do this to me. Not after all we've been through together. Don't hurt my children anymore. Also any mistakes are because I have been up since half five this morning, and had no more than six hours sleep.

Jemma didn't know what scared her most;

Not knowing where she was:

Or not knowing anything about Fitz.

After some thinking, she decided that it was definitely the second option that scared her more.

As soon as she had been taken on the QuinnJet, her phone had been taken of her so she had been unable to contact anyone, or know what was happening to them.

To him.

These thoughts kept flitting through her mind, passing the time in the dark.

And she didn't know how long she had been sitting there, in the holding cell, because that's what it was. A holding cell.

At least the guards who had escorted her there had the decency to remove the bag from over her head that the Director had insisted that she wear.

She was fidgeting nervously with her hands when the door creaked open, and in the doorway stood an armed guard. She frowned, wondering why they were armed.

She wasn't dangerous.

She didn't have powers like Daisy.

She couldn't fight like May or Bobbi could (but she could hold her own well enough in a fight).

So why was this guard armed as though she were dangerous?

There was nothing here she could even use as a makeshift weapon, and there was sure as hell nothing she could use here to science her way out of this situation.

Then matters got worse as he entered the room.

She saw them.

Handcuffs.

She frowned and was about to ask what all this was about when he spoke.

"Dr. Jemma Simmons," his voice had no emotion, as though this was something that he did regular and she supposed that it was. "Under orders from Director Jeffrey Mace, you are under arrest."

Jemma felt her stomach drop out from under her as though she was falling.

What had she done that deserved this?

She tried to think of what she had done and then, then it came to her.

She had blackmailed him.

Threatened him.

When she had first told Fitz what she had done (because of course she was going to tell Fitz what had happened, that she was now exempt from any further testing and that she had the upper hand with him) they had thought nothing of it at the time, though there had been some fear at what he could do in retaliation.

But they had never even thought of this as a possibility.

That he would all but kidnap and arrest her.

The guard pulled her arms behind her and placed the cuffs on far too tightly on her knocked her out of her thoughts.

"Move," he commanded, forcing her forward. She stumbled, then regained her balance, and discovered upon leaving the cell that there were two more armed guards to escort her.

The Director was really abusing his power with this.

Could he even be scared of her because of the power and the knowledge that she possessed?

The armed guard that had entered the cell, that had restrained her, was forcing her down the corridor, his hand tight around her upper arm.

Jemma counted the footsteps between each turn in the hallway and the turns that she took (she had also done that earlier when she had the bag over her head. She was so thankful at times like this for her eidetic memory) when she was finally stopped, it was outside two oak doors that were opened, the Director was there outside, waiting for her. A number of other agents and members of government were sitting around a table.

"Dr. Simmons," Mace said, staring at the young woman who met his gaze with one that was just as intense. If not more.

"Sir," she said, and her face was laced with venom.

He sighed, shaking his head as though he was disappointed in her. "You know why you're here?"

Jemma blinked once. "Of course." She plastered a fake smile on her face, she still had power here, despite the position that she was in.

Mace smiled a condensing smile. "I didn't want it to come to this Jemma, you know that right?"

Jemma didn't reply, she just kept giving him that condescending smile.

Mace sighed, and looked down at her. "Jemma, you are getting a hearing."

Still no reply, and it seemed as though she wasn't going to reply, Mace just turned his attention to the guards. "Bring her in."

They nodded, and pushed her in, and the doors closed behind them.

Jemma knew what the verdict on the hearing would be.

She knew she would be found guilty.

Jeffrey had power, the power to destroy and ruin her.

Because to him, she was dangerous to S.H.I.E.L.D., to him.

She had the power, the knowledge to be able to reveal the truth to him, something that he didn't want under any circumstance to be revealed.

"It's not permanent," Mace explained. "It's only until we find somewhere for you, somewhere you won't cause harm."

Jemma didn't say anything, couldn't say anything because she knew if she did, the emotions that she had kept bottled up would come spilling out. Because despite the exterior that she was trying to show, the words had hurt and the thought of not knowing what had happened to Fitz was twisting her insides into multiple knots. Because there was something unsettling every time she thought of him. As though something had gone wrong on the mission.

When he never got a reply, Mace nodded, and the guards helped Jemma, still cuffed, out of her seat was when she finally spoke. "Fitz."

The Director looked at the, and pulled a phone out of his pocket, her phone.

"He's been calling you Jemma. He's been calling you." He took a breath. Then to the rest of the room. "Leave us."

There was no movement but then the Director repeated the words again, this time with more anger and chairs began scrapping.

Once they were alone, he spun, facing Jemma, his face on of fury. "Poor Fitz. Not knowing where you are, thinking that you hate him. Imagine that being his last thought."

Jemma frowned, scared and wondering what he was on about.

"He's dead Jemma."

"No. No he's not."

Mace gave a sigh of frustration before reaching for a tablet and showing her a video.

Fitz was there, in a control room, lights flashing.

Then the next.

He wasn't.

He wasn't there.

He was just gone.

He couldn't be. Not after all they had been through.

"He's dead Jemma," Mace said, his voice laced with fury and victory. "He's gone. He's not coming back."

Jemma shook her head, tears starting to stream down her face. "No. No. He can't… he can't be."

Mace laughed, "You thought you were playing me, you and Fitz. You thought that you could best me? I saw through your little plan from day one. You wanted Phil back in charge, didn't you? Or May? Or Hill? You wanted to protect your friends, to keep them safe. But you couldn't. And you let him die. It's your fault Jemma. You killed him."

Her shoulders were shaking now, sobs of pure agony were leaving her. All colour had drained from her face, and already her eyes were puffy and red.

Mace just smiled, knowing that he had caught her out, knowing that the first part of his plan was complete.

"Jemma Simmons, you're never going to see the light of day again."

The guards had entered again, and were dragging her back because she was unable to walk. Not after knowing about what happened to Fitz. Because something had happened to him. Something was wrong.

But he wasn't dead.

Because he couldn't be dead.

Because she would know. She would know if he was dead.

She would know it.

But something was wrong.

Something was truly wrong if that footage was indeed right and not faked.

And Jemma was going to get to the bottom of it.

No matter what.

She was going to solve this.

So this just came to be and will probably have a number of chapters because I am not over that ending.

Title is Power by Bastille. Hope you enjoyed.