Over the next several days they attempted, in vain, to remove the bands. The metal seemed virtually indestructible. Jemma tested it and found traces of titanium, tin and copper as well as an unidentified mineral which they suspected played a role in their impossible strength.
Jemma herself was... different. There were times when she was still Jemma, same laugh, same smile, same boundless curiosity, but there were also times where she was, what Leo could only describe as, creepy. He still loved her to bits, he always would, but she was creepy.
The night was the worst. She didn't sleep, she couldn't, so she'd wander the Bus or, if they'd landed, wander outside (which Coulson and May had firmly discouraged because they needed know where everyone was in case a quick takeoff was necessary). Inside she'd write endless equations, pinning them to the walls of their rooms until they filled the spaces like numerized wallpaper. Once he woke up to her staring at him and not in the affectionate, innocent way she would normally, kissing his cheek before skipping away, but in an intense, detached way as if he were a particularly puzzling worm and she wasn't sunshine and smiles Jemma.
He had no idea what she did outside alone, but when they were together animals would flock to her, birds landed on her head and shoulders and she could tell him what they'd eaten and if they were hungry or tired. Once she told him a squirrel was going to die, stated it unemotionally the same way someone might tell you it was likely to rain or snow, and a minute later they'd watched as it was hit by a car.
The creepy episodes came and went in waves but they were becoming closer and closer together until she was more likely to be someone else than herself. It was scaring both of them, he could see, when she wasn't in the strange trance, that she was afraid of herself.
She was strong, incredibly so, and at first it had been fun. The team took turns, challenging her with increasingly heavy weights to lift. Skye even suggested she try to lift Lola but Coulson's response to that was as swift as it was predictable. She'd lifted the van instead.
Slowly though, as she began to realize how different she was becoming, Jemma had stopped thinking of her strength as fun or amusing, but as a liability. He'd needed to convince her not to tell the others what she'd said, worried that if word got out she might be detained, shipped away and locked in a box somewhere. None of their team would do that to her of course, but another member of SHIELD or some other organization might and he didn't want to risk the information spreading around.
That evening he found her in the sitting room, flipping rapidly through SHIELD data, a faraway look in her eyes. She didn't acknowledge his presence.
"Hey, did you want to take a break from...," he frowned. "Whatever you're doing."
She remained unresponsive, scrolling down so fast he wasn't sure how she was possibly reading the text.
"We can play Battleship," he offered, smiling encouragingly even though he knew he stood absolutely no chance of winning, not when she could read his mind. "Or Scrabble."
It was as if he weren't even there.
"Or... talk to birds... if that's what you like now..." he tried.
He might as well have been talking to a newspaper. At least he could read one of those, he had no idea what his partner was thinking.
"Jemma can you just..." he tugged at the tablet, "stop, for a minute. I'm worried about you."
She gripped it tighter, ignoring him and she was so strong it was like pulling on a statue.
"Hey," he called, trying to snap her out of it. "Jemma it's me," he reached to turn off the screen. "It's-"
Her gaze shot to him, cold and empty and in one swift, fluid movement she grabbed his shirt and set the tablet down on the sofa, holding him up by the bunched up fabric.
"Ow... Jemma stop," he cried, alarmed. She'd pinched at his skin and his collar was digging into him painfully. He pulled at her arm, careful not to hurt her even though he was panicking. She glared up at him, the dark ink seeping out of her pupils and faint symbols glowing on her face and for the first time in his life he was afraid of her. "Please-" he begged.
"-put me down," they said together. Jemma spoke unemotionally, a sharp contrast to his distress.
"What-" he began.
"What are you doing Jemma?" she said in that strange, deep voice, overlapping him. "Stop it," she said monotonously, before he could. "You're scaring me," she droned, even after he had fallen silent in shock.
"You're scaring me," he repeated his own thoughts after she'd spoken them. He placed his hands over hers, staring back pleadingly into the eyes which were no longer familiar. 'Come back,' he thought.
The ink retreated and the symbols faded. Her expression shifted to one of utter horror and she quickly lowered him to his feet, shaking her head as she backed away.
"Jemma," he soothed, reaching out to her, stepping forward. "It's OK, we're going to fix-"
"No," she gasped, staring down at her trembling hands.
"Hey," his hand hovered over he shoulder but she leapt back.
"Stay away from me," she shouted.
He flinched involuntarily, yanking his arm away and her eyes turned bright before she turned and charged out.
He raced after her but she reached her room and shut the door, locking it behind her before he could catch up.
"Jemma open the door," he requested gently, knocking twice.
"Go away," she shot back and he could tell she was crying.
"No," he objected.
"I don't want to hurt you," she squeaked.
"I'm not afraid of you," he insisted firmly. He had been, for moment, but she was in control and she wouldn't hurt him. He knew she wouldn't hurt him.
"You should be," she whispered.
He tried the code but she'd changed it and, even after several guesses, he couldn't figure it out. It wouldn't have been complicated to hack the keypad but that seemed too far a step outside her comfort zone, she didn't want him opening the door and he needed to respect that. Unless she was hurt or in danger, then he'd blow a hole in it if he had to.
That didn't, however, mean he was going away.
"I'm not leaving," he told her. "I'll stand out here until you open up... I mean... I know you have an advantage... not needing to eat and all but... you're going to get bored before I do," he joked, fishing for a chuckle or a smile. "I've always been the stubborn one, never know when to give up."
He could hear her breathing, struggling against herself, against her tears.
"I love you Jemma," he said softly. "I know that, whatever this is, you're stronger and I'm not going to let it take you." She hadn't lost yet, she was still in control, had stopped herself from hurting him. He rested his forehead against the door, wishing she would open it.
He heard her move towards him and he knew she was right behind the door.
"I love you too," she murmured. "But... I can't let you in."
"OK," he conceded, understanding her need to put a barrier between them, even if he didn't want her to. "I'll be here though." He slid down so that his back was against the door while he sat on the ground.
"OK," she replied, voice catching before tiny sobs escaped her. She was so close, just a few inches away but he couldn't reach out to her, couldn't take her hand. He wanted to hold her, kiss her face and tell her it was OK, but he couldn't so he cried silently with her, racking his brain for something he hadn't thought of, a way to get the damn bands off, knowing she was doing the same.
/-/-/
'Maybe if I cut off my hands,' Jemma thought desperately, aghast that she was even thinking of that. 'We could reattach them afterwards,' she reminded herself, not at all reassured.
Somehow she didn't think Leo would be any more thrilled with that plan than she was, but he hadn't exactly been thrilled with her lifting him into the air and acting like some demon from a horror film ready to do who knew what to him, either. She'd seen the way he looked at her, how he'd flinched away when she shouted, even if he seemed to be over it now.
He shouldn't have been, he should have been angry, scared, but instead he was sitting just outside her room, his back pressed against the door the same way hers was, as close to her, as close to a monster, as he could be, telling her he loved her.
She should move away, put distance between them in case she lost control again, but she was drawn to him, the way the north pole of a magnet drew to a south one, because she was afraid and he made her feel safe. It was selfish and weak and she had decided she needed to be stronger than that, had began to stand up, when he started singing.
"I see the moon, the moon sees me. Shining through the leaves of the old oak tree"
His voice pulled her back like an embrace and reminded her of comfort, the smell of a fire on a cold night, a blanket across her shoulders and the taste of freshly baked cookies. It was strong and steady, while being gentle and loving and it brought tears to her eyes again.
She turned her body so that she could press her palm against the door and lean her cheek on the side of it, listening.
"Oh let the light that shines on me, shine on the one I love."
Her eyes closed as she listened to the lullaby, soothed even if she couldn't fall asleep. By the time he'd finished, she'd relaxed and she felt enough herself to open the door.
He held out his arms, inviting but not pushing, and she stepped forward, wrapping her own around him and pulling him close.
"We'll fix this," he told her again, quietly because his mouth was so close to her ear.
"Yeah," she agreed, forcing herself to believe it. "We should tell the others what happened though."
He tensed. "OK..." 'What if they lock you up,' he thought.
"I probably should be locked up," she answered grimly.
"No," he objected.
"Yes," she insisted, pulling back so she could look him in the eyes. "I'm dangerous," she asserted. "I'm going to hurt them if we don't stop me."
He sniffed. "Hurt who?"
"Everyone," she replied, only knowing her answer once she'd spoken it. "Everyone..." she whispered, frightened all over again. What did that mean, everyone? Why couldn't she understand herself anymore?
'No, I'm not hurting anyone,' she resolved. 'Never.'
'You will,' someone contested simply, someone in her head, toying around with her mind.
/-/-/
"No," Leo protested angrily, crossing his arms glaring at his leader.
"They can help," Coulson insisted, unfazed by his teammate's temper. "They'll do some tests and-"
"And lock her up in a cage like some sort of criminal," he shot back, stepping in front of Jemma protectively. "Like you want to. We trusted you, came to you for help and-"
"I am helping," Coulson replied, patience thinning. "Everyone, Simmons included, will be safer with her in the holding room," he told him sternly.
"You mean she'll be safer in that cage until you take her to the new Sandbox and they put her in a smaller one with a bunch of people we don't even know," he objected loudly. "No, you can't, I won't let you. We can figure this out on our own."
"Don't I get a say?" Jemma put in testily.
He turned to her, surprised. "But... you don't want to go... do you?"
She took a breath. "They have surgeons there who can try... the thing with my hands." She bit down on her lip and averted her gaze but she managed to push down how scared she was. She was so brave, braver than him, he was freaking out.
"You said you didn't like that plan," her reminded her, alarmed.
"What choice do we have?" She countered unhappily. "They're my hands, this is my decision and I am not going to responsible for the deaths of countless people. I'm not."
"Jemma," he soothed, stepping forward to touch her arm.
She jerked away. "And I'm not going to let myself hurt you," she added resolutely. "Or any of our team." She turned to Coulson. "Put me in the holding room," she demanded.
He smiled sadly at her. "You're a great agent Simmons," he told her. "And a good friend, I promise that we're going to get those things off of you."
"I know you will sir," she replied, trusting him, but Leo remained prickly.
Of course Coulson would do his best, it wasn't his leader he was worried about. He was concerned about a group of strangers chaining her up -they'd better not have chains- caging her up and then cutting off her hands! They didn't know these people. Sure, they said they were SHIELD agents, but so had Hydra and look how that had ended.
He watched, helpless, as his brave love allowed herself to be led to the holding room and sealed inside.
Then he sat down, back against the door, not knowing what to say but needing to be beside her as they took off, soaring across the ocean.
/-/-/
Jemma sat silently, back against the door where she knew Leo was, feeling victorious.
Which was terrifying.
Something wanted to go to the Sandbox, something that wasn't her and she couldn't warn Leo or her team because it wasn't letting her speak. Horrible things were about to happen, she was a puppet in their creation, and she didn't know what they were or how to stop it.
"We'll be arriving in two hours," Coulson announced over the speakers.
A smile crept across her face but it wasn't her smile. Leo was wrong, she wasn't in control, not even a little.
/-/-/
The Fringe reference is the song, it is the song Alternate Olivia sings to her son Henry before she goes off on her mission to save the universe, leaving him with Lincoln. However the way Simmons repeats what Fitz says and then escalates to talking before he can is what the Observers in Fringe do and what a monster in an episode of Doctor Who does. So I guess that's also a reference too.
The creepy stuff Simmons does is inspired by Paranormal Activity and Fringe, as well as a little bit from Avatar the Last Airbender (birds land on Aangs head because he is the Avatar and also probably because he is a gentle soul, I mean, I couldn't see Kyoshi letting birds land on her and she was an Avatar too).
Also sunshine and smiles Jemma is based off sunshine and rainbows Arizona (Grey's Anatomy). I dunno if they actually call her that in the show or if it is a tumblr thing haha. (She isn't really sunshine and rainbows anymore).
Oh and also, the whole door scene was inspired by a scene from Being Human (the North American version) in which Sally is kinda a zombie and is locked in a room and Norah is all like "I wish you could come out." and she responds something along the lines of "Yeah, I miss you, but I also kinda want to eat you."
/-/-/
