Unsure where to go from there, they sat for a few hours, until Fitz broke the silence.
"Jemma?" he asked with a worried undertone. She looked over at him.
"This crate is airtight, correct?"
"Yes, don't worry, Fitz, no water will get in."
"I'm not worried about the water, Jemma. I'm worried about the air."
"What?"
"The air, Jemma. If this crate is airtight, we have a limited air supply. If we don't wash ashore or get rescued or whatever in… let's see this crate is about 7x7x9, and we've been in here for almost three hours… if we don't get out of this crate in about thirty hours, we'll run out of air, Jemma." She didn't know how to process this information.
"No, no, that can't be. We can't tell how far the nearest land is, because there's only one window in this damn crate. Oh, I know, we can turn the crate vertically so that the door is on top, we can open the door and have a good circulation of air, and try to get a bearing, and-"
"How do you expect that to happen, Jemma? With the state my leg's in I'm not going anywhere, and you've been onto the other side of the crate where all the boxes are and the crate barely shifted. It's probably weighted. There's nothing we can do. And incase you forgot, Jemma, the more we scream about it, the less time we have air." They were silent for a moment
"Well, there has to be something we can do," she insisted. She got up and walked back over to the boxes.
"I'll take an inventory. I'll go through every last box. Make sure we didn't miss anything and that it is all just weapons and armor. I'll start moving the boxes over towards the door a bit, you can sit on this wall and keep watch out the window." Fitz reluctantly scooted over to the other wall as Jemma started sorting through the boxes, but after a few more hours of going through them over and over again, she found nothing but weapons, useless in their crate unless they wanted to drown themselves.
By the time Jemma started to inventory for the fifth time, Fitz had had enough.
"It's no use Jemma! There is absolutely nothing useful in this crate! Please, just give it a rest. The sun's starting to go down." Jemma looked outside and saw realized they were indeed losing light and the sky was starting to change colors. She couldn't believe Fitz's unfamiliar pessimistic attitude.
"So what do you want to do, then, Fitz? Do you want to sit here and wait to see which outcome we get? Wash ashore somewhere, get rescued, or suffocate to death? If we wash ashore somewhere, who knows where it will be. For all we know, we could wash up on the shore of some province in Mexico where there is a gang that kills random white people who show up on the beach. And if we got rescued? How would that even work? We have no way to alert anyone of our position; Hydra took everything that we had on us. We are literally in the middle of a gigantic body of water, where it will soon be dark, and we have no way of casting light. We could get hit by a bloody giant ship and be killed that way! And if none of that happens? Suffocating to death might not be the worst thing."
"Jemma, don't say that. I think you're just feeling stressed. And Hungry. And dehydrated. And I know how you get cranky and say things you don't mean when you're, well, stressed, hungry, and dehydrated. Not to mention you probably have a minor concussion. We won't be able to do anything once it gets dark, so we might as well just go to sleep. We can start brainstorming after we've had a good night's rest."
"I suppose you're right. Although I don't see how we could have a good night's rest if we're sleeping on the hard black floor of a crate in the middle of water, but I suppose you're right," she agreed, and sat down next to Fitz, leaned her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes.
"A gang that kills random white people who show up on the beach," Fitz quietly repeated to himself. Jemma always said the most ridiculous things when she was hungry. He thought it was hilarious.
When Fitz woke up, he noticed Jemma was rummaging through the boxes again.
"Jemma! You've been through those at least five times last night. They won't help. Don't tire yourself out on that. Go look out the window and figure out how long we slept for."
"I don't know what time it is. We're not facing East or West. I think it's before noon though. When do we have until? A couple hours before sunset?"
"Yes, and unfortunately I don't think that there is anything we can do until then."
"But last night you said-"
"I said what I said so that you would go to sleep. I guess I knew it would eventually lead to this. I'm sorry, Jemma." She sighed and sat back down next to him.
"So, what are we going to do, Fitz? Are we just going to sit here and wait for the Avengers to come here, in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico, to save us?" Fitz forced a laugh.
"Yes, Jemma. That's exactly what we're going to do," he said half-heartedly.