Like I am so sorry for the last chapter. This one here deals with the aftermath of it and focuses a lot on the teams views and thoughts.
"How is he?" Skye heard a voice ask.
She spun, and saw that Hunter was standing there, looking the most sober he had for the past forty eight hours. She shrugged, and brought a sleeve up to her face and wiped away the tears. "Not good. He hadn't left her since she got out of surgery. But Bobbi says…" Skye couldn't finish. She didn't even want to think of what Bobbi had warned off.
"She still in the lab?"
Skye nodded. "She's only left to check on Jemma. But…"
Hunter bit his lip uneasily. "I may have broken into her bunk last night. I wanted to help, to be able to something useful. See if I could find anything."
"And did you?" Skye asked. She didn't want to get her hopes up.
Hunter shrugged, and passed Skye Jemma's laptop. "This and these." Then he revealed a handful of letters that seemed to be addressed to all of them. "I thought maybe that there was something on her laptop but I couldn't get in."
"And you what? Want me to hack it?"
Hunter nodded, and Skye opened the lid, turning it on. She felt a twinge of guilt as she did but she knew she had to do it. It was a matter of life and death, and if Jemma was hiding something on it, something vital… then Bobbi needed to know.
"And the letters?" she asked. She wasn't sure if she wanted to read hers. Not yet anyway.
Hunter shrugged. "I know she would want us to have them, but reading them…"
"It makes it feel real."
Bobbi was getting nowhere. Everything she tried, every simulation had the same outcome. Whatever cure, vaccine, injection, anti-serum, whatever it could be called, all had the same outcome. It would prove effective for a number of months, then cease to work, meaning that death would occur.
Jemma's death.
It wasn't fair. No one it was.
She shouldn't be suffering.
Not like this.
"Bobbi?"
Skye's voice caused her to spin. She was holding a laptop.
Jemma's laptop.
"Is that…" Bobbi asked, wanting to make sure that her presumptions were correct.
Skye nodded. "Hunter got it. Thought there was something useful on it. I went through all her files. Nothing made sense though. To me anyway."
Bobbi took the laptop from her and spent a number of minutes skimming through the files, reading what Jemma had documented, everything she had suffered and went through. And it was just what Bobbi needed.
"Skye…"
Skye felt the knot that had been in her stomach ever since Jemma had collapsed tighten.
"This is just what I needed."
For the first time in over two days, Skye allowed herself to smile.
"Any news from Bobbi?"
May stood in Coulson's office, arms folded over her chest.
Coulson looked up, his eyes weary as though he hadn't been sleeping at all. He shook his head. "Bobbi says she made it through surgery." But he knew May knew that. The surgery had been over a day ago now. She wanted to know what would happen next, what would happen to Jemma.
"She contacted me about two hours ago, research is the same as it has been. Cure works for a period, cure then fails."
"So it's a death sentence?"
Coulson nodded. "The longest is just over three months."
"Who makes the decision?"
"What decision?"
"The decision to... Coulson, it's… Her parents need to know this. Do they know this?"
Coulson shook his head. "Not yet."
"They need to know."
And with that, she left.
Mack hardly knew Jemma but he knew what an impact it was having on Fitz. Just how much it was affecting him. And he now had a better idea of what it would have been like for Jemma when it was Fitz in the coma. Not knowing if her best friend, the person that she loved would ever awaken. What would happen if they did.
He heaved a sigh as Trip sat up from the bench, wiping the sweat of his forehead. Mack knew he was distracting himself, it was only helping slightly. But he knew being here was better than being there, watching the nothing unfold in front of his eyes.
Trip, meanwhile, said nothing as he made his way across the gym, towel hanging around his neck. He reached for a shirt he had brought with him, and put it on, still silent.
"How's Fitz?" Trip finally asked. He knew the answer. He was just trying to make conversation. Trying to ease the tension of the room.
Mack just shook his head. There were really no words that could describe just how Fitz was. None of them would do him justice.
And no one wanted to ask about Jemma. They were too scared to hear the answer.
Fitz must have fallen asleep, that was the only explanation for the clock now reading just after one in the morning, and her hand no longer being in his.
He had just started to apologise for that when he spotted the letter on the bedside table. Addressed to him. In her writing. Someone must have left it there for him.
He reached for it, turning it over and over in his hands before opening it, slowly, cautiously. Scared to know what it would say.
Dear Fitz
If you ever read this, when you ever read this, I'll probably be dead, or close enough to it. And it means that I never got to say anything I wanted to say to you. Which is a lot Fitz. There is so much that I want to say to you and I don't think I will be able to say any of it. Because I'm dying Fitz. And that terrifies me.
But I don't want to focus on that. There are so many things that I want you to know, and I don't think I will ever be able to write them all down, and let you know all of them. But I'll say the ones of most importance because I owe you that. You deserve that from me. You deserve to know why I left, why I went undercover. It's because you were suffering because of me. Everything I seemed to do hindered your recovery. You weren't getting better because of me. And I didn't want to cause you any more pain, any more suffering Fitz. I love you far too much to do that. So I left, to allow you to recover. And you did. You didn't need me anymore. You could live without me Fitz. But I'm not sure I could ever live without you. You were my only thought when I was away. You were the only one I wanted to talk to but I couldn't. I couldn't let you suffer because of me not anymore.
It was never because you weren't good enough. It wasn't because of that. Never think like that about yourself Fitz because you are the best person I have ever met. You are so brave unlike me. You deserve someone so much better than me.
Someone who is worthy of your love. Because I'm not. Because, despite how much I love you, I am not worth it. Not after all I put you through.
Because I do love you Fitz. I love you more than I can describe. There are no words in any language that I can find that can describe just how much I love you. Everyone else, none of them understand me, none of them respect me like you do. None of them were you. None of them are you.
When we were in the Academy, I used to wonder what life with you would be like. Not like how were at Sci-Ops. But Together. As a couple. Together. What our children would be like? Would they get those poodle curls of yours that I teased you about relentlessly? Those blue blue eyes that I still find myself getting lost in, even after all these years?
So many times I imagined us in Perthshire, in a cottage I passed all the time as a child on family holidays. I imagined it as I followed you around the Academy, annoying you. But I still did it. Followed you about everywhere. You were the only one my age. The only one who I wanted to be friends with. You were so pasty back then, so intelligent and so handsome.
I only wish we hadn't ended like we did. With me ruining everything.
Fitz, please be happy. That's all I want for you. To be happy and to have a long life with someone who loves you. Someone who's good enough for you.
I love you
Jemma
Fitz didn't know which smudges on the letter were because of his tears, or because of the ones she had cried when writing the letter.
I am sorry again and thanks for all the love and support. You guys are amazing!
