Jemma let out a strangled gasp when she saw Fitz appear on the monitor, her heart squeezing as if someone were trying to crush it. His injuries seemed minor, at least on the surface, a pair of tiny holes on either side of his head. Those holes, however, made tangible the horror of what he'd just been subjected to. They, along with his ashen face and hair matted with sweat, were an achingly visible reminder of what the man had done to him, of what he was about to do again.

She'd been able to autopsy the other victims without stepping away, been able to swallow down the evil and the loss she was was seeing in front of her but seeing Fitz like this, knowing what had happened to him, made her sick to her stomach.

'Concentrate,' she told herself, resisting the urge to leap from the car immediately. 'Figure out where he is.'

Unclipping the tablet from the dashboard, she scrambled to turn on the drone's location display, allowing herself a quick smile when she saw Stealthy, a tiny red dot, only a few yards away.

"Oh Fitz," she mumbled proudly. Of course he'd found a way to lead her to him, of course he'd know she was coming.

There were a million reasons for her to wait, to call for backup, why a lone, untrained agent shouldn't be breaking into to a dangerous Inhuman's home but none of those reasons meant a thing when the light flickered on in the basement and she saw Fitz look up towards what must have been a door, his eyes widening in terror. It only lasted a moment, before he was hiding it again, glowering like an angry lion, but a glimpse had been all she needed to see to understand how frightened he was of what was about to happen. She couldn't sit in the car and watch him suffer through this nightmare, she needed to act now. Once again her body seemed to move of its own accord and she'd bolted out, grabbing the tablet and her backpack, fumbling to take out the ICER as she ran towards the tiny red dot on her screen.

He was in a basement, she knew that from the video that had been streaming of him and because the beacon from Stealthy indicated that he was below the ground. It led her to a grimy window, too filthy to see in through, but also too caked in dirt for anyone inside to see her approach. Fitz was right behind that window, about to have his mind toyed with for the second time that day and she didn't have time to think about the potential consequences when she slid to the ground and smashed through the glass with both feet, sliding in over broken, jagged pieces that cut at her skin.

She had just enough time for Fitz, already in the grip of that monster, to turn his head, to feel the shallow cuts stinging her arms and back, too see the look of relief mingled with his worry that flashed across his face, before there was a sudden sharp pain in her shoulder. Something pointed and fast collided with it, sending her flying backwards before embedding itself into the concrete wall behind her stuck through her flesh like a skewer through meat.

Fitz let out a muffled shout as a scream tore itself from her throat and her hand flew up instinctively, wrapping around the metal rod and trying in vain to pull it out. Jostling it sent jolts of pain crackling around it and she whimpered, breathing heavily as she tried to reorient herself, figure out what was happening.

A long, metal rod had her pinned to the wall and she followed the path where it had come from with her eyes to see some sort of launching machine, very rudimentary but powerful enough that if the rod had strayed a bit further to the left it would have pierced right through her chest. Broken glass littered the workbench it was perched on, as well as the floor around it and and half of a stack of bottles remained between it and her. It had probably been hidden behind them this entire time, well enough that Fitz hadn't been able to see it. If he had he'd never have led her there. Neither of them had expected the man to have enough foresight to set a trap. Clearly underestimating him had been a critical mistake.

Gritting her teeth, she tried again to move the rod but it wouldn't budge. Fitz was struggling with all his might against his bounds, his shouts rendered incomprehensible by the tape over his mouth but she didn't need words to understand what he was thinking right now. She was thinking the exact same thing, that she needed to free herself, that she couldn't let them both die here.

"Put that in after the third one almost escaped," the man told her wistfully, he'd taken his hands away from Fitz in the commotion, bloody tendrils sliding back into his fingertips. "I never thought it would stop someone trying to get in." He stepped towards her but paused when Fitz let out a screech, shaking the chair so hard it rattled beneath him. His face had turned from grey to red and his eyes were ablaze. "I'm not going to hurt her," he promised, he gave her a quick glance before turning back to him. "And she should be alright as long as she doesn't move around too much. I'll take her to a hospital as soon as I'm finished with you OK? You don't need to worry about her."

'He doesn't want the memories tainted,' she realized. 'But he's lying. He can't leave me alive now that I've seen him. Now that I know where he lives.'

Fitz must have known it too because he continued his attempts to free himself, twisting his wrists against the tape, but it was useless.

"Calm down," the man urged. He started towards him, eyeing him hungrily, white tendrils already snaking out the tips of his fingers. "Let me in again, I'll make us both see something better."

"Don't!" Jemma shrieked.

"Shut up," he growled, ignoring her plea and touching his fingers to the wounds on Fitz's temples. "Let me concentrate and maybe I won't kill him."

He was delusional if he believed he could keep Fitz alive as he burrowed those things into his head. He was going to kill him if she didn't do something, she had to act now.

Jaw clenched tightly, she took a deep breath through her nose, steeling herself for what she was about to do. Then, before she could flinch away from it, she pushed herself off from the wall in one swift, powerful motion, using her foot and her uninjured arm together to force her body forward and her shoulder through the metal pole, wrenching herself free from it. It was agony and the moment she stumbled forward onto her knees she felt the blood torrenting out of her, leaving her head spinning, but her veins were filled with adrenaline and it gave her enough strength to reach for the ICER which had slid only a couple of feet away, take aim, and hit the man twice in the back.

The impact knocked him into Fitz who let out a grunt of surprise before he slid off of him, crumpling unconscious onto the floor.

She was growing weaker, her body begging for her to stop, but she needed to free Fitz or they'd still be doomed. The man's powers were gone but without help she knew she didn't have very long and she didn't want to think about what his rage would make him do to Fitz when he woke up.

Struggling forward, she found a pair of scissors on a shelf by the wall and mustered the rest of her strength to limped over to Fitz and cut the tape away from his arm. The moment it was free her legs gave out underneath her and she fell forward, clutching at his knee for support as he unbound himself and tore the tape from his mouth.

As soon as he was free he was lifting her up to her feet and helping her away from the Inhuman, towards the backpack she'd dropped when she'd been pinned.

"There's…. there's a phone," she said weakly, wincing at the pain in her shoulder when he set her down again, allowing her to sit, leaning against the wall as he searched for it. "No one knows we're here. Fitz… you have to…"

"I'm calling for help," he assured her, briefly touching her cheek before dialing the number. "You just focus on staying awake."

Of course he knew what to do. It was going to be fine. She listened as he spoke to Bobbi, reaching for the tablet to turn on a distress beacon.

"Bring a medical team," he demanded urgently. "And hurry up."

As soon as he'd set the phone down he was at her side, slipping off his jacket and pulling apart the slieve to create a makeshift tourniquet.

"I liked that jacket," she mumbled hazily. It was nice, brought out his eyes, and she'd stolen it more than once on a cold evening walk.

"I can get another one," he answered distractedly. "Let's get that to stop bleeding first shall we?"

He lifted her up, shifting her weight onto his chest, keeping her injured shoulder clear. Then, with more care than she'd seen him use disarming a bomb, he positioned the fabric around the wound. Despite his efforts, the movement shot bolts of pain up into her neck and she sucked in a breath between her teeth, gripping his shirt when he tied a tight knot, pressing it into the exposed flesh. Her fingers dug in when he doubled the knot and he kissed the side of her head, murmuring an apology even though it wasn't his fault.

"It's OK," he promised. "They're coming, you'll be OK. You saved us Jemma," he added proudly. "You were so brave."

She felt like a crash test dummy, heavy and bashed up in his arms, but she also felt washed over with warmth at his praise and she believed him when he said it was going to be OK. There was no place in the world safer than with Fitz.

"I thought we weren't getting hurt for each other anymore," he teased, making the corners of her mouth twitch up in a small smile.

"Perhaps we could take turns," she mused breathlessly. Her face was pressed into his shirt now and beneath the heavy scent of blood and sweat, he smelled like home. "Or next time… just take the bloody tracker."

She shut her eyes, trying to settle her queasy stomach. It was a bit like being on a ride at an amusement park, except she wasn't moving and she was very, very tired.

"I always knew… was you," she mumbled. Her words were faint and close to being incoherent, but she found herself needing to dredge them up, to communicate what was in her head before she lost her chance again. "Before… the… the helicarrier…" She swallowed, trying to soothe her dry, aching throat.

"Shh, shh, shh," Fitz hushed, gently painting the tips of his fingers down the side of her cheek. The contact made her wish she could move to return it, but it was comforting all the same. "We can talk about it after, you need to save your strength."

'Don't tell me to shush,' she thought, irritable from the pain and waves of nausea, although she understood his concern. 'I'm not going to die if I use up a few breaths to tell you what I've needed to say for almost a year. I'm not waiting another second for some rock to swallow me again or for another lunatic to take you away.'

"I chose… you," she went on stubbornly, slowing down so that she could be sure to pronounce each syllable. "... before. I chose you before… the helicarrier, and… on Maveth it was you I was going back to…"

Lifting her head, she managed to look up at him, locking onto his bright gaze. He still seemed concerned but he was listening, and that was what really mattered. He was there and he could hear her and he was paying attention to what she was trying to say. So help her if the universe decided to interfere now.

"I gave up," she whispered miserable. "And I'm sorry for that… I didn't know… I thought…"

"It's OK," he assured her, his fingers moving up to comb through the hair above her ear. "You don't need to apologize for anything. I understand. You did everything you could and I'm proud of you."

His acceptance was exactly what she was expecting but it still made her heart lighter to hear him say it aloud, that he'd said he was proud. He was wrong though, he didn't understand.

"I didn't give up because I didn't want you anymore," she told him. "I gave up because… I knew I'd…" she paused, catching her breath and he waited patiently, thankfully having abandoned his efforts to convince her to stop. "I knew I'd want you every second of the rest of my life, and… and I thought it wouldn't hurt as much if… if I accepted that I couldn't have you." Thinking about the moment the bottle had shattered into the sand was more painful than her injury and she shook her head, lip trembling. "Then you found me," she squeaked. "And I still couldn't have you… not really. I knew after what had happened it wouldn't be fair to either of you… even though I already knew I loved you. We needed to fix the mess I'd made first…"

"None of that was your fault," he asserted firmly. His eyes shone, tears glistening on his cheeks, but he frowned at her last sentence, shaking his head.

'I left Will there instead of fighting It with him,' she thought miserably. 'Of course it was my fault.' That wasn't what she was trying to tell him now though, and she didn't want to get off topic, not when it was such a strain to get her words out.

"It was you that I wanted," she continued, as clearly as she was able. "I chose you… before Maveth, on Maveth, and after Maveth. And I…. choose…. you... now." She took a few breath, realizing that she wasn't going to be able to say much more. "I choose you." she repeated resolutely. "I love you, always, and… and I… I want to be with you….always…"

Her head felt incredibly heavy but she fought to hold it up just a few seconds longer, watching his reaction to what she was saying. The sides of his face were streaked with tears but his eyes were soft and he was smiling down at her in wonder.

For what felt like an eternity he seemed unable to reply and it was only when she lost her battle with her exhaustion and dropped her head onto his chest that she felt him taking in a shaky breath.

"Well that's good then," he told her, his voice thick with emotion. He leaned down to kiss the top of her head and the rest of it was murmured into her hair. It ruffled against her scalp as he took a long breath in through his nose, and she wondered for the first time if she smelled like home too. "Because I don't ever want to be without you."

She chuckled weakly, eyes closing as she gave a tiny nod. 'It's a deal then.'

/-/-/

The title is based off the title Fitz got at the start of this season "Man on Fire". Not sure who coined the term, but I saw it pop up a few times :P

Thank you to notapepper for betaing this chapter :D Keeping it all nice and clean.