A/N: I'm sorry this chapter took longer than I thought it would. I'm in my last year of uni so I have had deadlines. Unfortunately that means my writing had to take a backseat. I hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks again to all of the readers, reviewers, followers and favourites.

Chapter 4

Opening his eyes, he saw Jemma sitting next to him, her hand in his and a toy monkey sat on the bed with him. His head felt heavy and his arm stung when he tried to stretch out. Fitz wasn't sure how long he'd been out, but with Simmons asleep next to him he could tell it was late in the day, maybe the middle of the night, he couldn't be sure. He tried to move his hand away from hers, feeling it shake as he reached for the toy monkey. He had to focus hard, concentrate in order to curl his fingers into the fur but he couldn't keep the grasp for long, letting his hand fall back to his side. Opening his mouth, he tried to form the words to wake her but he couldn't get them out. They were right there, on the tip of his tongue but forming them felt impossible. "I uh, I-" His eyes shut tightly, creases forming in his forehead as he searched for her name, the pain escalating quickly.

Fitz woke with a start, looking around the room he was now in. He was in a bed, white walls encasing him in to a small box room. His head ached with every beep of the monitors surrounding him. There was a bruise forming on the side of his head, his eyes fixing themselves to the scar on his hand. It was small, barely visible. It would have gone unnoticed if he hadn't been certain it was there. A small jagged cut, almost twenty years old, faded with age. It was impossible, appearing only hours before rather than years. All because of SHIELD. How they were doing it, he wasn't certain, but he was positive he would figure it out. They'd make a mistake, they always did.

The door opened, Jemma walking into the room, wearing a SHIELD lab coat with one of his own tablets resting in the crook of her arm. Her hair now scraped back into a ponytail, showing some smaller scars and bruises scattering over her face. Small white lines, more precise than the one resting between his knuckles. There was no denying her beauty, even if she was the leader of an evil organisation. "You're awake. That's good. Hunter said you were looking at your hand and then you fell." He could see her trying to glance at his hand, covering it quickly with the blanket on his bed. "You ran off before I could explain."

Fitz shook his head, the pain surfacing at the sudden movement. "Nothing to explain. You're messing with my head. I know what's going on." Jemma rolled her eyes at that and he couldn't understand why. She reached behind her back, presenting a toy monkey, similar to the one from his dream. "What's this?"

"Well I know you own a real one here but the Fitz I knew was content with a toy whenever he got knocked out, which happened a lot." That really made no sense. The Fitz she knew? Other than his father and mother, there was no other Fitz. He had no siblings, no cousins with the name, so what Fitz did she know?

"Let me guess? Parallel universes and the multiverse? I don't believe in all that. I'm sorry if you believe you know me, but you don't." He turned away, from her and the monkey, eyes fixing on a small smudge on the ceiling above him. "I want to go back to my office now. You can't keep me hostage forever." He was aware that he sounded like a brat, like the only child his mother always warned him not to become. He couldn't help it though, standing up to her was his only option.

"Fitz, it isn't like that. We didn't do anything to you. Unfortunately, the fact you having these outbursts means we can't let you go yet." The news hit him hard, like the memory from the box under the sea. It was like the air was being knocked from him, the already small walls closing in on him. "You're remembering, and remembering means that you'll understand soon. I fear however that if I let you go you won't have any reason to keep remembering."

"Yes but what exactly am I remembering? The life I'm remembering isn't even mine." He pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezing closed as the searing pain in his head returned.

"Sorry Fitz" He was about to turn around when he felt a pain at the base of his neck, collapsing down into the floor. The next time it happened he'd been talking to a woman, her hand resting on his shoulder as she told him he needed to guard Sif's cell. Jemma had come to rescue the Asgardian, how had she even escaped the med-bay? He never should have underestimated her genius really, that was his pivotal mistake. He followed her down to the cargo hold, confused as Coulson's fist flew at his face. He remembered a train, a man attacking him and Skye, the vague memory of a terrible Scottish accent also surfacing. Jemma came running in through the door, her voice an octave higher than usual as she assessed the situation. It was a blur as the grenade exploded, her body falling still before him. His touch was gentle as he closed her eyes, knowing how embarrassed she would have been if she could see herself.

He was gasping for breath as the pain dissipated, trying desperately to sort through the flashes of memory, to organise them with the flashes he had already had. The more he saw these flashes, the less sure he was about SHIELD's involvement with them, knowing the technology for memory alteration would be a much longer and painful process. He still didn't trust them but he at least knew he wasn't going to die here. "There're flashes of a life that isn't mine. You're there and Daisy, there was one at home, one under the sea. Daisy was called Skye?" He shrugged, picking up the monkey from his side, running a hand through the fur. "He was there too. A situation a lot like this actually."

Jemma couldn't help but smile, doing everything in her power not to reach for his hand and comfort him. "I thought he would help you remember things. I don't know how far we should push you, Mace isn't remembering so we really need you to wake up. Or we need to find Coulson, or May, or Mack."

Fitz sighed, reaching over for her hand, a completely natural instinct to him. "I'll try. I don't know why I'm trying or what the outcome is but I'll help. I don't trust you but I'll do as much as I can." He squeezed her hand, leaning back on the bed. "You didn't have to do this." He gestured to the monkey as he spoke, his lips lifting into a small smile. He could feel himself drifting, sleep taking over once more. The memories drained him, but he knew they were important to Jemma. He drifted to sleep, monkey clutched to his chest and his hand in Jemma's. "Love you Jemma." He mumbled automatically, sleep taking over once more.