Jemma found that being the Mum to a nine month old Sean was exhausting. Not that it wasn't possibly one of the most rewarding experiences in her life – right up there with her double doctorates. Her simply amazing was still growing at leaps and bounds, as he was almost three and half feet tall and thirty pounds; however his growth rate seemed to be slowing down. Fortunately his growth was slowing, as he had rapidly outgrown most of his clothes after he had worn them maybe three times. Sean ate solid foods but he still snuggled with her for nursing in the morning and before he went to bed.
But while he might be the size of an almost three year old, he didn't speak. His eye and hand dexterity wasn't well coordinated, but as John reminded her, Sean was nine months old. Not three years old, so not to look for trouble and expect too much from him.
"Now pick up your shoes and put them in your room. You can only wear one pair at a time," Jemma instructed. Sean, being a happy little boy, dutifully picked up his shoes, toddled off to his room and returned with a book, his blanket and his stuffed dog. With a copious amount of mock surprise, she asked, "The dragon book?"
A happy nod was Sean's response.
"Your godfather really knows what books to suggest," Jemma informed Sean. Sean, giggled, and nodded his head even as he crawled into her lap for snuggle time. "His grandkids must adore him as you always love his recommendations."
During one of their sporadic conversations, Godfather CB (Short for Coy Boy) had suggested a dozen or so books, and Sean had eagerly devoured each book. However, Sean's favorite book was Dragons Love Tacos.
"Now, Sean, which one is the purple dragon?" she queried.
He pointed at the correctly colored dragon. Jemma assured him that he was absolutely, positively correct. She asked him other questions about the various dragons and the assorted tacos, and each time Sean pointed to the correct one.
"Hey, Sean!" Jemma happily exclaimed as she recited the first page by rote. "Did you know that dragons love tacos? They love beef tacos and chicken tacos. They love really big gigantic tacos and tiny little baby tacos as well?"
Sean nodded his head happily. He loved dragons, tacos, dragons with tacos, and being read to every chance he could finagle.
Yes, hopefully, dragon tacos would keep him from having a meltdown when he went to the pediatrician.
"Did someone mention tacos?" John asked, as he had snuck into the room without her noticing. "That sounds like a wonderful idea. Let's have Tacos tonight. Whatta say Sean?"
John crouched down to Sean's level, and held out his arms. Sean leapt into his father's arms and they both giggled.
"What are you doing home?" Jemma questioned. It was Friday afternoon, and John wasn't due home until later.
"Figured you needed backup," John murmured as he leaned down to kiss her.
"She flirts with you again, she's a dead woman," growled Simmons.
At six months pregnant, Raina was huge, uncomfortable and not at all happy. Her feet were swollen, her former flower dresses had been put away MONTHS ago, and she knew her staffers viewed her condition as rather amusing. There was a loud scream from the hallway, which meant that The Brat had arrived for his follow up exam.
Your brother is a spoiled freak of nature, she thought to her daughter she was carrying. It might not be her daughter genetically, but it was hers. I'm sure it's upbringing as opposed to genetics.
Flats, she was reduced to wearing shoes with no heels which made her even shorter.
"He's in room six," her staffer informed her when she exited her office.
"I can hear him," Raina scowled. "I believe the entire complex can hear him."
"Some babies don't like doctor's visits." The staffer had the nerve to defend the Spawn. "He's had a great many tests and blood draws. I can understand why he's not happy to be here. He's normally quite sweet."
Sean began acting out the minute he recognized the building. He adhered to John for physical protection; he wept and screamed. Jemma's heart shattered as her little boy was terrified but John continued to carry Sean into the medical office.
"Hello, Sean Garrett here," John jovially informed the front desk staff. "I'm sure you can hear that his lungs are in fine shape."
By the time they were escorted into an examination room, an exhausted Sean was merely sniffling half-hearted broken sobs even as he clung to his father.
"Now, Sean, you are a very brave boy," his father assured him. "Whatever they do to you, they'll do to me first. I won't lie to you, it might hurt, but I'll feel it also."
John Garrett's outer persona was noise. Lots of noise, smart ass comments combined with a snarky grin. Inwardly, he watched, he observed and he cataloged. He noticed how Sean tensed when Raina came into the room, so he shielded his son as much as he could.
Because he remembered being that small and scared; how no one protected him.
No one had cared.
Not at all.
Sean seemed emboldened by having his father sitting on the exam table with him, so he only slightly whimpered when his blood was drawn. Well, to be fair, John had made a face when his blood had been drawn. He had also noticed that Jemma had swooped in and stolen his blood while making it appear that she had trashed the vials in the red bag waste.
Sean was sent off with Jemma when the Medical Inquisition was completed. The various staff members fled the scene, and Flowers waddled… waddled away to make her escape. Except for the fact that John Garrett stood between her and the exit.
"You're not touching Sean again," John informed her. In response, she smirked and he had an overwhelming desire to wipe the petals off her muumuu. "Any of children of mine, in fact."
Her smirk faltered for a moment, and her hand moved to her belly, slightly, then stilled, as though she wished to protect her baby from him, but was worried about being too revealing.
Interesting slip, one he'd need to investigate. Carefully.
Who was the father?
"I'm sure you can understand how a parent needs to protect their children from those that would harm them." He smiled; kept his voice cool, calm and composed and then leaned down to her. "Remember that I will protect my children. Don't ever forget that, Flowers."
Definite fear in her eyes.
Two tacos and an ice cream later, Sean was once again a happy boy. Each parent held one of his small hands and he was content to skip or jump… or leap…. as they returned home. As it had been a very exhausting and stressful day, he was quickly tucked in and asleep before Jemma had finished reading Moo, Baa, La La La. He hadn't even stopped off at the milk bar for a nightcap before he was comatose.
"Ice cream?" Jemma murmured.
John flashed that wild smile of his, and winked. "Least I didn't promise him anything with four legs and a tail."
With a gentleness that never failed to surprise her, he placed his hand on her lower back. Then he turned her to face him and he lingeringly gazed over her with a crooked smile. There was a twinkle is in his eye, and Jemma smiled. Her eyes were aglow and there was a blush to her cheeks which meant she was feeling frisky.
"So, Sean's asleep. It's early, what do you want to do?" he leered. "How about…"
"I need to go to the lab and spin your blood," Jemma cheerfully informed John. "I should be home by ten."
"Seriously?" a disappointed John sulked.
"Yes, I won't be able to get a decent HDL/LDL ratio on you for weeks after all that queso menonita you inhaled tonight. I'll pump, so if he wakes and wants milk you can be prepared. Try not to go out and getting matching tattoos while I'm out," Jemma informed her husband. "I'll be home soon. Promise."
"Why are you spinning my blood?" John asked.
"I like keeping an eye on your Hg1AC and your triglycerides. Be home soon, promise," Jemma assured him. She stood on her tiptoes and she whispered in his ear, "Tomorrow's Saturday, so we can sleep in if we stay up late."
While John's cholesterol levels were a tad high, that wasn't why she wished to spin his blood. No, she wished to examine the various blood cells in John's blood. The GH325 had not been the permanent panacea she had hoped it would be. His color was … off… and…he tired easily... no… no… she was just looking for trouble. Once the blood was spun, she would realize that she was being silly.
She spun bloods once, twice, three times… the results confirmed her dark fears. Jemma then destroyed the blood, the results and any trace that she had been in the lab running John's blood. To cover her tracks, she ran a vial of Sean's blood so she would have an alibi for being at the lab at night. Due to Sean's rapid growth, Jemma always ran her own set of bloodwork.
There was no doubt in her mind that John was ill.
She escaped to her car; developed tunnel vision and when she came around, she found herself outside the city, staring down at it.
If anything happen to John… what will happen to Sean? What will happen to me?
There was a lifeline, a thin, tenuous lifeline… but…she had never spoken to him.
What if he really didn't exist? Don't be stupid. He does! He does!
I need to talk to you. Please. I know it's risky, but I need to talk to you. Jemma hit send and she waited.
As always, Coy Boy immediately answered.
Do you need me to get you out?
I need to know that you really exist. I need reassurance.
I'll call you in five minutes. I can't talk for long.
Her phone rang. Her screen displayed it was Mike's Pizzeria that was located near her office, so she picked up the phone.
"Hello?" she answered.
"Hello, Dr. Simmons." Male voice. Pleasant. Deep baritone. American. Slight New England accent. "This is your favorite exquisite tart calling."
"You exist," she breathed. "You really do."
How stupid, really, but with her world spinning apart…. John ill…. John, who kept Sean and her safe… Coy Boy was a steady constant… To her relief, Coy Boy chuckled. He had a very warm laugh and his voice was soft when he added, "I know exactly what you mean."
"Good."
"How are you? I'm worried." Yes, his voice was full of concern.
"He's sick." Her voice trembled and she roughly wiped her eyes. "I don't know what I'll do if…"
"My godson?"
"No." Her assurance caused him to exhale a sigh of relief. "He loves those books you recommend."
"Excellent. I'll send you additional suggestions. Now, I swear to you, I will do everything to extricate you and my godson when you give me the word."
"What about him?"
Pause.
"He's made his decision. He was never one to change his mind." Coy Boy's voice went flat… dead…
"He really hurt you." Why was her intuition screaming that she should recognize Coy Boy's voice? And the issue between the two men, it wasn't just hurt, but a profound betrayal; emotionally… physically? "Why are you agreeing to help me?"
Longer pause.
"Time's up. Goodbye. Remember, I'm here."
The phone disconnected.
John was asleep in their bed, as was Sean. The two of them had been joined by Sean's stuffed puppy and three books. Changing quickly, she slid into bed; kissed the two men in her life goodnight. Even the puppy was given a brief smooch as Sean always insisted that the puppy get a good night kiss. The niceties completed,
Jemma Simmons watched John sleep.
Pondered how much she really knew about him. She reviewed the various incidents on the bus…. the time when Sitwell, Blake and Ward had been on the bus, and she had thought Hand and Blake were possibly HYDRA. Hand, shot dead by Ward… Blake… stomped by Mike Peterson…
Blake…
The senior agent had only stopped weeping from the agony of a crushed chest after she had given him far too much morphine. Garrett had hovered over Blake, and he had demanded that she do something… anything for Blake's pain. She thought his concern was based on friendship…
Had it actually been guilt?
Whatever had happened to Blake?
He had been the enigma of the senior agents on the bus. Felix had only spoken to May or Coulson, deliberately ignoring Garrett's attempts at conversation. John had been amused at Blake's behavior… what had he said to Blake that caused the other agent to storm away.
"No need to be coy, Roy."
Coy Boy was Felix Blake.
And he was most assuredly NOT HYDRA.
But was Felix Blake… SHIELD?
Felix Blake put the phone down and stared at the ceiling of his bedroom. Mike had gone to visit his son, hadn't invited Felix to tag along, hadn't even considered bringing Ace here for the holidays even after Felix had suggested it. He hadn't even broached being introduced to Mike's son because it was crystal clear that Mike was pretty ashamed of shacking up with Felix.
Maybe, it was time to move to a nice one level home or maybe a Craftmans style home with two floors at most. He had the money, and well... apartment life wasn't cutting it. The elevator had needed repairs again and he was tired of climbing steps. Yes, with three bedrooms... just in case his grandkids ever wanted to visit.
Oh, who the hell was he fooling? That part of his life was beyond dead.
