She was in her favorite dream again.

Or, at least, that's what it seemed like.

Mostly everything was the same. She was still floating in space, almost completely surrounded by the stars. It was fitting, really. Never before had she been so consciously aware of her place within the expanding cosmos, how her atoms had combined in just the right way to bring her to where she was at that exact moment. In the grand scheme of things, she knew that she was just an infinitesimal speck on the timeline of the universe. And yet…every molecule that formed the person she was had a role to play, a role that began before she was born and a role that would continue after she died.

Whether short or long, her life mattered. She mattered. The thought usually gave her peace.

But something was wrong.

The sight before her was distorted for some reason, almost as if she were looking up at the stars through rippled glass. There was a rope bound around her waist, which wasn't terribly concerning. It usually made an appearance in the dream, the only thing keeping her from drifting further into the void of space. Sometimes, she felt the urge to remove the rope, but whenever she made the attempt, she would always feel a gentle hand rest atop hers, making sure the cord remained secure. Normally, she didn't mind simply drifting there.

But normally, she was able to breathe.

She suddenly realized why her vision was distorted. She was underwater.

Frantically, she tried to untie the rope from her waist. Her limbs felt like lead, presumably from being dragged down by the water but more likely from the paralysis one often experienced within dreams. Knowing she was asleep didn't mitigate her alarm, though. Because even though she was dreaming, she still couldn't breathe.

As hard as she struggled, the rope wouldn't budge. It actually seemed to be dragging her further beneath the surface. Just as she thought she was going to drown, the grip on her waist loosened slightly, and she felt a familiar hand on hers. Only this time, it wasn't the soothing touch she was accustomed to that usually kept her from floating away. This hand grabbed at hers in desperation, pulling her down. Her first instinct was to push the hand away, but curiosity compelled her to turn around.

She should have known it would be him. She should have known that the desperate hand was his, silently begging her to look at him one last time before he let go. This was her nightmare now. Because of course he had untied the rope for her. Of course he was doing all he could to help her escape. He had always been able to do what she couldn't.

But that was the thing with them. That give-and-take had always gone both ways. And there was absolutely no way she was going to leave him there.

She grabbed onto his hand, but he was already sinking. His fingers slipped out of hers one by one and she found herself being pulled towards the surface, screaming as the sound of exploding glass filled her ears.

"Simmons," she heard a distant voice murmur. Jemma sat up abruptly, gasping as if she had actually just been underwater. Everything was out of focus for a few seconds as she tried to figure out where she was and what had awoken her.

The first thing she saw was his motionless body lying on the bed in front of her. The wounds on his face had been carefully cleaned and disinfected, and his left arm, now set within a cast, rested serenely over his stomach in a sling. If anyone else had seen him at that moment, they might have thought that he was just sleeping. But Jemma had seen Fitz asleep before, sprawled out haphazardly on one of the lab benches after working late on one of his inventions or curled up on her bunk during one of their all-night study sessions back at the Academy. He was a sound sleeper and a creature of comfort, although how anyone could sleep in the positions he did and be comfortable was still a mystery to Jemma.

But this was different.

Jemma nervously glanced up at the screens placed on the opposite site of his bed. The steady beeps coming from his heart monitor, as well as the infrequent but regular bursts shown on the EEG display, should have given her some form of relief. But the way he was lying there, pale and unmoving, kept the terror of her dream fresh in her mind. She was no longer sleeping, but that hardly mattered. Her life was a nightmare now.

How could he have been so stupid?

Jemma clenched her fists in the clean white sheets of the bed as she tried to slow down her breathing. She suddenly became aware of a small hand running fingers through her hair, gently disentangling some of the knots. The rushing sound in her ears faded, and she turned around in panic to see Skye's worried face looking down on her.

"Simmons, hey, it's okay, it's just me," she was saying softly. "You're okay." She quickly removed her hand from Jemma's hair at seeing her alarm, but after a moment hesitantly placed it back on her shoulder.

Jemma was still disoriented from sleep, but at least she seemed to be breathing normally again. "What time is it?" she asked blearily.

"It's, uh, a little after nine, I think," Skye responded, not quite meeting Jemma's gaze. "Listen, um, I can stay with Fitz for a little bit if you wanted to go lie down or something."

Jemma had her mouth open to protest, but Skye seemed to know what she was thinking. "Simmons, you've been in here all night." Her eyes accidentally flicked over to Jemma's, and Jemma saw so much pity in them that she nearly turned away from Skye in disgust. As if she was the one that needed to be pitied right now.

Skye's voice remained gentle as she continued. "I brought some of your stuff from the Bus and put it in the room next door. If you want, I can-"

"That's…quite all right, Skye," Jemma interjected, giving Skye her most convincing smile and trying not to sound too irritated. "Really, thank you, but…I think I'd rather stay here a bit longer."

Jemma could tell that Skye wanted to argue further, but something in her expression must have stopped her. "Okay," she nodded, looking somewhat uncomfortable. "Are you…are you hungry?"

The very thought of food made Jemma feel as if she was going to vomit. She shook her head as she turned back to Fitz, not trusting her voice at the moment. Part of her hoped that Skye would leave so that she could be alone, but a larger part than she would have expected hoped that she would stay and keep her company. She didn't know if she could handle being alone with an unconscious Fitz right now.

She heard the sound of quiet scraping as Skye pulled up a chair next to hers and sat down. "How's he doing?" she asked.

Jemma sighed. "Honestly? I don't know, Skye."

"But…you said he was only without oxygen for a couple minutes. I thought-"

"I thought so, too," Jemma replied, absentmindedly grabbing onto Fitz's hand and struggling to keep her voice from trembling. "We weren't very deep, not really. About 90 feet or so. But Director Fury's medical team was with him for a long time and cerebral hypoxia is a very unpredictable condition and we won't know the full extent of the…" She broke off and took a shaky breath, determined not to break down. "Of the damage until he wakes up."

"But…he's gonna be fine," Skye said uncertainly. "Right?"

Jemma couldn't bring herself to answer, and instead silently traced circles on the back of Fitz's hand. As much as her optimistic nature wanted to reassure both Skye and herself, she knew that Fitz should have woken up by now. If Skye was right, and it really was nine in the morning, then he'd been unconscious for over twelve hours. She didn't need to be a medical doctor to know that his chances of a quick recovery were diminishing.

Thankfully, she was saved from responding as the door swung open. One of the doctors from Fury's team cautiously entered the room and stopped short, presumably surprised at seeing Jemma awake, as well as Fitz's new visitor. "Oh, don't mind me," he smiled shyly, making his way over to Fitz. "I'm just checking up on him."

Jemma sat up straight and reluctantly released Fitz's hand. "Yes, of course. Thank you, Doctor."

She and Skye sat in awkward silence as he adjusted a couple of the electrodes on Fitz's head and examined the read-outs, jotting down a few notes. After a few minutes, he gave them a small nod before heading towards the exit.

"Um, excuse me. Dr. Russell?"

Jemma wasn't quite sure, but the doctor's shoulders seemed to tense up a little before he turned back around. "Yes, Agent Simmons?"

"Sorry, it's just…is everything all right?"

Dr. Russell nodded a bit too emphatically. "Yep. Everything's, uh, looking normal. But, of course, we'll be able to see more once he wakes up. Which I think should be very soon."

Jemma felt her heart sink. "Oh. Okay, then. Thank you."

He avoided her eyes as he nodded again, looking uncomfortable as he shuffled out the door.

"Well, that was convincing," Skye said sarcastically as soon as the door clicked shut behind him. "Could he be any less cryptic?"

"Not only that, but those were the same words he said last night, both times I asked him. It's like they don't know I'm aware of exactly what they're doing every time they come in here."

Jemma could almost feel Skye looking at her with that maddeningly sympathetic expression of hers. "Yeah, um…" she began hesitantly. "Why aren't you the one monitoring him, Simmons?"

Jemma shook her head, trying to hold back her tears. "I'm not actually that kind of doctor, Skye. And…Agent Coulson doesn't think I'm…" She paused, uncertain of the word she was looking for.

"Doesn't think you're what?" Skye asked in a surprisingly defensive tone. "Fit for the job? Is he crazy? You…you saved my life after Quinn shot me! You've stitched us all up who knows how many times. If anyone should be in charge of-"

"No, he's right, Skye," Jemma interrupted her, even though Coulson hadn't used those exact words. He'd always had an unwavering faith in her ability, but even she had to concede that she was somewhat compromised in this particular situation. "These doctors know what they're doing."

Skye scoffed. "That guy didn't sound like he knew what he was doing."

Despite her worry, Jemma laughed a little. "Dr. Russell is one of the primary reasons that Director Fury is still alive, Skye. I wouldn't underestimate him just yet." She sighed, and even though the words hurt to get out, she knew she had to say them. "Besides, after what happened, I'm not entirely sure that my care is the best option for him right now."

Out of the corner of her eye, Jemma could see Skye fidgeting, almost as if she were gathering the courage to ask something. Oh, dear. She braced herself, already knowing what Skye was going to ask.

"You know, um…I never got the full story of what actually happened back there." Skye hesitated. "Did…you wanna talk about it?"

Jemma very decidedly did not want to talk about it. She had given a very brief report to Coulson soon after he'd arrived with the team at the Playground, and even then she had just given him the bare minimum of what he'd needed to know. He'd been patient with her, and hadn't pushed for more when she'd stopped, seeming to know that she would disclose whatever was necessary. Right now, staring at Fitz's immobile form, she didn't think she had the strength to relive the experience again.

But she knew how much Skye cared about Fitz, and vice versa. She deserved to know at least what he'd done. Jemma took a deep breath.

"We thought we were going to die down there, Skye. By all accounts, we should have." Her hand had found Fitz's again. "But…we found a way to explode the glass using some of the medical supplies, and…well, there was only enough pressure in the oxygen mask for one person."

"Oh my God," she heard Skye breathe, and the tears Jemma was feebly keeping at bay blurred her vision.

"He didn't even stop to think of…anything else. He just went ahead and forced me to take it." Her tears still hadn't fallen, but she focused on the faint pulse she felt in Fitz's hand as she continued. "Anyway, it all happened so fast. There was nothing I could do to stop him. He just…exploded the window like it was nothing and tried to bloody sacrifice himself-"

"Of course he did," Skye said quietly. Jemma turned in surprise to see that even though her eyes were also brimming with tears, she had a small smile on her face. "And of course you didn't let him."

"Well, I wasn't going to just leave him there. He should have…" Jemma's voice trailed off as something in front of Skye's shirt caught her eye. "Where did you get that?" she asked, pointing to the lanyard.

Skye glanced down in confusion until she noticed what Jemma was referring to. "Oh, uh…Eric had us go through orientation again." She winced. "Billy, I mean. God, that's gonna be weird for a little while. They're so similar, it's…kind of disturbing, actually." Skye seemed genuinely troubled by how much the new Agent Koenig resembled his recently deceased twin brother, and Jemma had to admit that there was something eerie about the situation. But she could tell that Skye was trying to distract her from the fact that she hadn't gotten her lanyard yet.

"Oh," she replied, beginning to stand up. "Well, I suppose I'd better go do that now then."

"No, no, no," Skye said quickly as she placed a hand on Jemma's arm. "It's fine. Really, Simmons. I'll go get it for you."

Jemma was confused. "But…don't I also need to be questioned?"

Skye shook her head. "Coulson says you don't have to."

"And…Agent Koenig was okay with that?" she asked doubtfully.

Skye had a smirk on her face. "Not really, but Coulson took care of it. You missed a very entertaining breakfast."

Jemma felt her cheeks burning. As much as it was touching that Coulson had stood up for her, she couldn't help but feel somewhat annoyed that she was being given special treatment. "But surely he needs proof that I'm not-"

"HYDRA?" Skye asked incredulously. "Because getting dropped out of an airplane by HYDRA isn't proof?" She laughed a little. "If that's not good enough for Billy, then he's just gonna have to deal with it."

If anything, Jemma was now more determined than ever to go earn her lanyard. "Well, all that fuss was hardly necessary, Skye. I've handled a lie detector before. I can do it again."

"Yeah, but-"

Jemma briefly closed her eyes. "I'll be fine, Skye. But…" She glanced over at Fitz. "Would you mind-"

Skye didn't look completely sold on the idea of her going through orientation, but she nodded after a moment. "Yeah, of course, Simmons," she said quietly.

"All right then." Jemma stood up and did her best to straighten her crumpled blouse. She realized that she probably should take a shower or at least change her clothes before heading over to see Koenig, but she was afraid she would lose her resolve if she took too long. Just before she reached the door, she turned back around to look at Fitz once more. He looked so peaceful laying there, his face untroubled by the horrors he had gone through. For Jemma, though, the sight was hardly reassuring. That peacefulness looked dangerously close to a different kind of peace, one that didn't involve his heart beating.

She hesitated, the fear of leaving him keeping her frozen near the doorway. The only comfort she felt was seeing Skye vigilantly next to his bed, one hand enclosed in his. "I'm not going anywhere, Simmons," she said without looking up.

Jemma nodded, more for her own reassurance than anything else, and exited the room.

Ten minutes later, she was sitting across from Billy Koenig, trying not to appear too uncomfortable as he configured Fury's contraption to her biometrics. He had halfheartedly refused her request at first, most likely out of respect for Coulson, but she could tell that he was somewhat pleased by her insistence. She thought she understood, at least in part. Following protocol to the letter was a habit of hers as well, even if protocol wasn't quite in the picture anymore under their current circumstances.

"Okay, you've obviously done this before, so just relax and it'll be over before you know it." He gave her a tight smile as he pressed a few keys on the display in front of him. She nodded, hoping the assessment would go as easily as last time. Now that she was sitting in the chair, she wasn't entirely certain she could handle a more intense interrogation. "All right, we'll just start with a couple easy questions, try and get a baseline. Can I have your full name?"

She took a breath. "Jemma Louise Simmons."

His eyes examined the incoming graphs. "Okay…good," he muttered, tapping on the screen. "You actually have a last name. Makes my life a little easier."

She was still nervous, but Jemma couldn't keep her lips from curling up into a small smile at the thought of Skye trying to explain her lack of a surname. Even Jemma didn't know what name Skye had been born with. It didn't really bother her, though. Skye was a part of her family now, in some strange way, and had shown time and again how much she valued their team. If Skye was the name she preferred, then that was all that mattered. And it suited her, really.

Billy took a couple more seconds to adjust the signals to her baseline. "Eye color?"

"Hazel."

"Have you ever been married?"

"No, sir."

"Please list your immediate family."

Jemma's heart sped up a little faster. "Mum and Dad, both still alive. And a sister."

"Ah, yes," Billy nodded, briefly glancing up at her before turning back to the screen. "Ellie Simmons. She is also an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., is that correct?"

"Formerly so, sir," Jemma replied. "She was in the last graduating class at SciTech before…well, before HYDRA took over." She saw something dark flash through Billy's eyes, so she pushed forward before he could voice any of his suspicions. "HYDRA kidnapped her, sir, and they…they tortured her for information." Jemma fought to control her voice. "She refused to help them, and almost died at their hands. We managed to rescue her, but she was too weak to continue with us, so she left the Division."

She forced herself to keep her eyes fixed on Billy's, and his expression softened after a moment. "I'm very sorry to hear that. Have you…spoken to her recently?"

"Not since she went to work for Stark Industries, sir," she replied, silently kicking herself. She would have to ask Coulson or Skye about setting up a call soon.

"Stark?" Billy asked in mild surprise. "Huh. I never would have pegged him as the type to be interested in alien biology, especially after New York. But I guess it's a strange world we live in now."

Jemma managed to give him a weak smile, hoping that this line of questioning was drawing to a close. He waved his hand. "Okay, okay, let's, uh…move on, shall we? Can you tell me the difference between an egg and a rock?"

Jemma knew fully well that déjà vu was simply an anomaly of memory caused by her brain's inability to construct a complete perception of an experience. But there was no doubt in her mind that she had undergone this exact same test before. It didn't help that she had examined the dead body of her current proctor's identical twin. And it also didn't help that she had to attempt to answer this stupid question a second time.

"That's…that's not even a fair comparison. There are literally an infinite number of differences between the two. Using chemical makeup alone, I couldn't even begin to scratch the surface-"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Billy cut her off, holding up a hand. "You know, it's…whatever. Have you ever heard of Project Insight?"

"No, sir," she began, but immediately corrected herself. "Well, aside from its having been mentioned in my other assessment, the one…back at Providence." She wasn't exactly sure how Billy was dealing with the news of his brother's death, but she figured it would probably be in her best interest not to pour salt on the wound.

He didn't seem particularly bothered, though, and moved on, apparently satisfied with her answer. "Have you ever had any contact with Alexander Pierce?"

"No."

"You-" he started, before stopping abruptly. "Oh."

"What?" she asked.

He shook his head and gave her a smile, but he was avoiding her eyes. "Never mind. I'm just gonna…skip that one."

Jemma felt her stomach harden, but the galvanometers on her fingers kept her from clenching her fists. She was already tired of being treated as if she would break at the slightest provocation. "It's all right, sir. I can answer the question."

Billy chuckled nervously. "Really, it's not a big deal."

She set her jaw. "Ask me the question. Please," she said, somewhat surprised by her own assertion. She knew which question was coming. Was she even ready to answer it?

There was a long pause as Billy seemed to weigh his options. "Very well," he said slowly, glancing down at the papers in front of him. He took a breath. "You wash up on a deserted island, alone. Sitting on the sand is a box." He sighed as he glanced up at her, and she could see the uncertainty on his face. "What is in that box?"

Almost instantly, tears welled up in Jemma's eyes. She was furious with herself for her lack of control, not to mention disappointed by her previous answer. Had she actually chosen the TARDIS as the one thing she could have on a deserted island? In theory, of course she would want a machine that could travel in both time and space. But the fact of the matter was that the TARDIS didn't exist. Where had the Doctor been when she was trapped at the bottom of the sea? Where was the TARDIS when she'd actually needed it? Jemma was a pragmatist, and yet she had chosen the least practical item in the universe to help her escape. How on earth would a fictional device be able to give her hope? The solution was simple. It couldn't.

This time she would give the answer she should have given before. Because it really was the only answer. The only thing that she would choose to have with her if she had to be alone. The only thing she would need to help her find a way to get off the island. The only person in the world that had been able to give her hope when she'd had absolutely none.

"Fitz," she finally managed to get out, her voice shaking slightly. The rest of her signals must have properly conveyed her conviction, though, because Billy simply nodded before continuing. By the look on his face and the way he was actively looking down at the screen in front of him, he didn't seem surprised by her answer.

"All right, we're almost done here. You're doing great."

Jemma fought the urge to roll her eyes. As much as she wanted to prove that she could handle being interrogated, she was ready for the exam to be over.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. no longer exists, at least in the same capacity that it has existed in the past. Right now, the Division is in pieces and has been labeled a terrorist organization. It is currently unclear as to whether or not the agency can be rebuilt. So…the question of the day is…why are you here?"

Jemma met his gaze. "Sir, I'm sure that no matter what I say about my loyalty to S.H.I.E.L.D. or-"

"Are you?" he asked, interrupting her.

"Sorry?"

"Loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

Her defensive affirmation was about to pass through her lips when she stopped herself. "I'm…loyal to Agent Coulson, sir."

To her surprise, Billy smiled. "It's Director now, actually."

Jemma was baffled. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah," he chuckled. "Pretty sweet, huh? Fury finally decided to hand over the reins. Probably figured Coulson could get more work done on the ground or something, what with Fury being presumed dead and all." His eyes narrowed. "Now that I think about it, everyone thinks Coulson's dead, too. Well," he cleared his throat. "That probably won't last too long."

Jemma was somewhat caught off-guard by the new development, but she couldn't really say she was shocked. "I guess I am loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D. then," she said softly.

"Yes, you are," Billy announced, reading the incoming signals. "But…there's something else, isn't there?"

Perhaps it was her recent run-in with HYDRA, but she felt affronted, even though Billy didn't appear to be accusing her of anything. "Sir, I'm only alive right now because of S.H.I.E.L.D. If it hadn't been for Fury or Coulson, I wouldn't even-"

"That's not what I'm talking about," he said, holding up his hand again. "There's another reason you're here, another reason that trumps all the other reasons you could have for being here. So…what is it?"

There was something in his expression that told Jemma he already knew her answer. Her voice didn't waver this time.

"Fitz."

She held her breath as she waited for his response. She knew her answer wasn't what he'd probably wanted to hear, but it was the truth. She wasn't HYDRA, and her allegiance was to S.H.I.E.L.D. But Fitz came first. He always had.

Billy held her gaze for a few agonizing seconds before he smiled. "Congratulations, Agent Simmons. Let's go get you a lanyard."

Coulson glanced up from his desk as she knocked lightly on the door. He gave her a brief smile before turning back to the papers he was examining. Since the night before, he'd been going through a large number of the Playground's files, looking for anything that could be helpful in trying to start S.H.I.E.L.D. back up. This wasn't anything unusual. Coulson had a habit of burying himself in work, especially if Fury himself gave him the task and even more especially if there was something he was trying to atone for. May wouldn't have been overly concerned if she hadn't known him better. He was wearing his customary suit and tie, but his face looked haggard and he was slightly hunched over.

"Did you sleep last night?" she asked, closing the door behind her and making her way over to the desk.

Coulson didn't look up at her again, but she could hear the smirk in his voice. "Says the one up at the crack of dawn every day." He sighed before leaning back in his chair. "So you're training Skye now, huh?"

May shrugged. "She's out of an S.O. Seemed only fitting if she's going to be out in-"

"No, I think it's a great idea," he said, a glint in his eye. He stood up to put some of the papers in a filing cabinet. "How'd she like meditating?"

May hesitated. "It might take a while, but she'll get there."

Coulson was smiling when he turned back around. "So about as much as you liked it then?"

She tried to glare at him, but she couldn't keep from smirking. "Who knows? Give her ten years and they might start calling her the Cavalry."

May regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. Coulson's smile faltered. He'd always been careful not to use that phrase around her, knowing what memories it brought back. "Relax, Phil. I'm kidding."

"Yeah, I know you're kidding," he replied, looking at her with poorly disguised worry. "That's why it was so weird."

She glanced away from him, annoyed by his concern when he had a thousand other things to be concerned about. Her eyes fell on a few papers he had left on the desk. There was some kind of strange writing on it that looked oddly familiar, but before she could place it, he slipped the papers into a folder and locked them in a drawer. She could tell he was trying to be surreptitious about it, but he must have known such a thing would be impossible with her standing right there. "Anyways, we should-"

"Are you all right, Phil?" she asked softly, cutting him off.

He picked up the toolbox Fury had given him and slipped it into his pocket. "I'm fine," he said unconvincingly.

May rarely felt the need to push, especially when it came to Coulson, but he'd been worrying her lately. It was obvious that he hadn't slept well the night before, and now he was hiding things from her. Normally, she might have let it slide, but with the new daunting task set before him by Fury, not to mention the uncertainty of Fitz's condition, she knew he probably needed a break. They all did.

"Phil…" she began, but before she could say anything else, his phone rang.

"Coulson," he said, holding the receiver up to his ear. There were a couple moments of silence as he listened to the other end, but his blanched face and terrified eyes told May all she needed to know. "Be right there."

She was out the door before he'd hung up the phone.

Jemma carefully ran the comb through her hair for the third time. After Billy had given her her lanyard, she'd decided it would probably be best for everyone if she took a few minutes to attend to her own personal hygiene. Her shower had been fairly short, because the thought of being in the water for longer than was absolutely necessary sent her body into panic mode. She supposed that was to be expected, though, at least for a while. Water had taken nearly everything away from her.

As Jemma pulled her hair back into a ponytail, she absently wondered why she was taking so long. She needed to get back to Fitz, but some small part of her, the part that was procrastinating right now, was terrified of staring at his still face again. He'd looked so pale and fragile, not at all like the strong, vibrant Fitz she knew. She didn't know if she could handle seeing him like that for much longer, wondering if she would ever see his eyes again, or whether those words he'd spoken to her in the pod would be his last-

She shook her head, forbidding herself from thinking like that. He would be fine. Fitz would be fine. She wasn't going to let him go. Not now. He wasn't finished yet. They weren't finished yet.

Just then, she heard the sound of a commotion coming from the room next door. Everything seemed to slow down as Skye burst through her door.

"Something's wrong," Skye gasped. She continued to speak, but Jemma couldn't hear anything, the sounds around her fading to give way to a lone beep ringing in her ears. She darted out into the corridor, her footfalls matching the pounding of her heartbeat, and skidded to a stop just as she entered Fitz's room. Someone was talking to her – a doctor, Coulson, she wasn't sure – but there was only one person that held her attention. At first glance, Fitz looked just like he had when she'd left him. But Jemma knew what she was looking for. She stared at his chest for what felt like hours, waiting for him to show her some small sign that he was still breathing.

All at once, the sounds around her came back at full force. There were people calling her name, and someone was ordering someone to do something, but there was one sound Jemma heard above all the rest, the same long beeping she'd heard ringing in her ears earlier. Slowly she looked up at Fitz's heart monitor, and she felt her stomach drop.

It was a flat line.

A/N: I apologize for the cliffhanger, and I would never want to cause distress for any of my readers, so I will say that the archive warnings for this fic (or lack thereof) still apply. So stay tuned. ;) Thank you so much for reading, as always!