"Into The Fire" - BRUCE

The sky was falling and streaked with blood
I heard you calling me then you disappeared into the dust
Up the stairs, into the fire
Up the stairs, into the fire
I need your kiss, but love and duty called you someplace higher
Somewhere up the stairs into the fire.


"Dr. Simmons, it'll be a little bit before I can leave as I need to talk to Fury. Do you have a change of clothes here?" Agent Blake asked.

She shook her head, and he took her by her forearm even as he assured her that he would find her something to wear. She followed him, as really what else could she do? Phil was dead…. DEAD…. And Fitz was in Medical, which was filled to the brim with the wounded, so she couldn't stay there. She was adrift, alone and… better to be with a man that hated her (Justifiably) than be by herself. Because Blake would verbally whip her and scourge her soul… and she wanted … no… needed… the pain to overwhelm her completely, so she would drown in despair. Really a bit overdramatic, she thought, but that thought was far better than this… ache of nothingness.

Blake took the steps and brought her to a small office in a roundabout way. She realized only after she arrived in the office, that there were whole parts of the once proud building that were impassable due to the alien invasion. The unfamiliar office in which she was deposited consisted of a great many dark monitors and a single chair. While she stared, uncomprehending at her surroundings, Agent Blake took her by her forearms and gently pushed her into the chair.

"Stay here," he requested. "Sonya and Nekko will stay with you."

She nodded her head, as Agent Blake seemed to need a response. Meanwhile, the big Staffie put her head in Jemma's lap and Jemma began to stroke her. It was… comforting…

"Be back. Don't go," Agent Blake repeated.

She nodded.


After Agent Blake left, Jemma decided to sit on the floor. She curled into herself, and permitted herself to cry once more, as the overwhelming absence of where Phil had once been, now hurt. The two dogs decided to crowd around her and they began licking her face while she cried herself to sleep.

She wasn't sure how long she had been asleep when Blake returned. Long enough for Nekko to fall asleep in her lap and for Sonya to be snoring next to her.

"Dr. Simmons? Director Fury would like to talk to you," Agent Blake requested. "I also guessed at your size, so I have something you can wear when you wash that outfit."

As she tried to stand, Blake pulled her to her feet and she looked upon the weary, grieving face of Director Fury. "Dr. Simmons," he quietly stated. "I understand that you will be staying with Agent Blake until you get back on your feet. If there anything you need, that Felix can't assist you with, you will inform me."

"I want Phil to be alive, that this is all a horrible, horrible mistake," she quietly stated. She was determined not to cry in front of Fury, that she would be strong, and resolute. "But I doubt even you can do that."

Fury blanched, before he nodded.

"Agent Blake," Fury commanded and Blake left the two of them alone. Director Fury took her hands and he carefully squeezed them. "Phil and I go way back. I know you and Agent Blake have had… problems… but … I know… Phil would be delighted to know that you two … are supporting each other."

Jemma nodded her head, as really, what could be said?

"He is a very good man," Fury quietly stated. "He and Phil were more alike than they were different. Phil is… was… personable which Felix is more straight-forward but really, both are good men. Here's my personal contact information, please call me if there is anything I can do."

She nodded.

But vowed never to call.


By the time Blake returned back to his office, Blake had collected a dozen Agents or so that had nowhere to stay. Most of them were senior agents, but there were a few lower support staff members that looked shell-shocked, plus Jemma and the two dogs. They met outside his office and he announced what that plan was.

"It's four blocks to my apartment," Felix explained. "It's chaotic out there, so two tight squares, one external, one internal. Dogs will be in the internal square. Doctor Simmons? You'll hold their leashes."

Chaotic wasn't the word for it. Massive devastation was closer to the truth, what with the missing parts of the familiar skyline, the loud sounds, not the everyday sounds of an active city but the sounds of trauma and terror…. and the smoke… There was looting… LOOTING… in the stores and Jemma realized that the Agents wanted nothing more than to put everything right, but… they were weary and outnumbered. Felix stopped at a grocery store where the owner and what was probably his family stood guard with a barricade of fully loaded shot guns.

"I need to buy food and supplies," Felix informed the store owner. "I will pay but these people with me have nothing. Can we arrange for something? I have cash and I understand you won't be able to make change."

The store owner nodded his head, and said, "Only one of you can come in. However, you hand me the money first. I'm sorry but I got robbed last week. And they're acting like animals right now. ANIMALS."

"Understood, but how about this? I give you the money, I give you a list. Your family bags and boxes it. Hands it out to my people?" Felix asked. "While we're here, we'll protect your store? As we're armed."

It was a subtle warning to the shop owner not to take his money without giving him the supplies.


Felix discussed the list of needed supplies with Shaw and Jacobson, and then he asked Jemma for her input. She reviewed the list and then she realized that one of the men had written down "female supplies… - ask Dr. Simmons". The line was listed above Flash lights, Batteries (D, AA), Dog Food, TYLENOL.

On one hand. MEN, but on the other, at least they had thought about it.

"You need to write down what four women may need in the next few weeks," Felix informed her. "Then double it, as I'm sure the news that Hotel de Blake is open is spreading so I'm anticipating a few more senior agents will be residing there shortly."


The bill was tallied, Felix muttering darkly about the illegality of price gouging, but still he paid. The merchandise was distributed amongst the personnel and they continued on to his apartment. His apartment was located on the third floor of a pre-war brownstone and he stopped at the second floor during their walkup. He knocked on the door and shouted, "Sra. Feliciano. Es Felix, su vecino. ¿Estás en casa? Compré comida para ti. Por favor, abra la puerta."

Mrs. Feliciano. It's your neighbor, Felix. Are you ok? I bought some things for you. Please, open your door.

The door opened slightly and a slight elderly woman peered out.

"¿Es el rapto?" she asked. Is it the rapture?

"No, no era el rapto. Si lo fuera, usted estaría usando alas. Peor que eso, me temo. Fue extraños procedentes del espacio. Han ido a casa porque no podían derrotar a la ciudad de Nueva York," Felix explained.

No, not the rapture. If it were, you would be wearing wings. It's worse than that, I'm afraid. It was space aliens. They have gone home because they could not defeat New York City.

She opened the door and he stepped in with two bags. Shaw motioned for the team to continue up the steps to the third floor.

"Seriously, his Spanish is horrible," Jacobson quipped as he opened the door to Felix's apartment. "Shit, this is small."

"One bedroom with a den, one and half baths, but it is what it is. Least he's willing to share," Shaw stated. "Let's put the supplies away. Inventory everything and Jacobson and I will figure out how to maximize the living space. Felix will assign the quarters."


After butchering Spanish for several minutes with his elderly neighbor, Felix arrived to discover that he had picked up another roommate; the recently acquired supplies were being inventoried and distributed, his furniture was being rearranged, chores were being distributed and bathrooms assigned. All in all, Shaw and Jacobson were running the ops as the consummate professionals they were.

"Agents Lopez, Gallagher and Kaur? You three ladies are getting the den," he decided. "Come with me. It's tight, but there's a futon. Pillows and sheets are in the closet, so feel free to set it up as you see fit, Agents."

He didn't know the three of them at all, as they were administrative support staff but he had witnessed women, led by Lopez, take down a squad of Chitauri warriors with a can of hairspray and a cigarette lighter. Truly impressive. When he realized that they were among the homeless, he figured he could offer them a space as he did have a tendency to pick up interesting strays.

"Agent Simmons? Come with me," he requested. "You're getting the smallest space, but it's private."

The scientist seemed on the verge of physical collapse, so he figured get her settled and hopefully she'd sleep.

"It's the walk-in closet," he explained as he entered his bedroom. "There's a chair and a cocktail ottoman in there, so you should be able to get some sleep. Really, I don't particularly need a closet this size which is why I put a chair in here, but when you have a Staffie as a pet, you take what apartments you can afford."

She nodded and he handed her a bag.

"You can change into this. I asked Lopez to wash your clothes as she asked to wash her group's clothes as they only have what they're wearing plus what I acquired. I figured you don't want me to accidentally starch your delicates."

Jemma nodded once.

"You look exhausted. Get some sleep, Doctor Simmons," Felix requested. "Remember, you're off duty for the next week."

"Agent Blake," she requested as he turned to leave her. He stopped and faced her. "Will you… help me organize Phil's funeral?"

She needed it to be perfect, and really Felix Blake was the person that knew Phil Coulson best.

Blake stared at her, and nodded his head once. "Sonya might slip in here to sleep as she doesn't like crowds. Be careful where you step when you wake."


She was dancing with Phil and he was smiling at her with that warm smile of his which made her heart sing. For some reason, her mind was saying that this was wrong, that Phil shouldn't be in her dreams, but her heart was full of happiness.

"Hey," he said. "You and Felix are actually getting along. Very happy to see that, though I think I would have preferred if that miracle hadn't required an alien invasion to accomplish it."

He twirled her and then dipped her as she playfully shrieked. He brought her back up to her feet and he smiled once more at her. "Promise me that you'll keep an eye on him."

"What will you do if I promise?" she cooed. "He's a Level Seven and doesn't really need me to babysit him. Make it worth my while, Agent Coulson."

Phil whispered in her ear. It was a very naughty promise and she giggled.

"Ok, ok, ok," she happily agreed.

When Jemma woke, she realized anew the truth of the matter, that Phil was dead. And not even kisses from a Staffie named Sonya could cause her tears to cease. After several long, sleepless hours, Jemma finally convinced herself to change into a pitbull rescue t-shirt and her pants from the previous day. Hopefully, Agent Blake had managed to locate some sort of female clothing as while he had tried to provide everything for his house guests, there was a serious lack of female clothing in his apartment. She walked out into a literal personnel minefield, as there were Agents strewn all over the place, attempting to sleep. There was … fifteen? In the living room? Felix Blake was sitting at his breakfast nook and Agent Lopez was next to him. He was tapping at his tablet and then he stopped.

They were having a very quiet conversation but Jemma Simmons was quite skilled at lip reading thanks to years spent dealing with the noise of the chemistry hoods.

"I'll try to contact your parents to let them know that you're alive," Felix promised. "There's a lot of traffic but not enough bandwidth but I'll see if I can piggyback it on to another message. On a serious note, why are you hiding in Administration? That was pretty bad ass with the hairspray and the lighter. Chitauri Flambé is destined to be a classic taught to generations upon generations of Baby Agents."

"My brother died in Afghanistan, so my parents...," she ceased talking and shook her head.

"I understand, and I'll really do my best to get this message to them. Now Agent Lopez, you and I have to try and feed twenty people plus in a kitchen best meant for two. You up to the challenge, Agent?"

"Yes, Sir!" she saluted and Felix snorted. "I think we best start the coffee, Sir."

"A woman after my own heart. Are you bonded?" Felix gently teased.

"I think I met him yesterday," Lopez admitted. "I'm not sure. I mean, the first time you meet your Soul Mate… it's not supposed to be in the middle of a firefight and the first time he meets you, he quotes a line from a movie."

She rubbed her arm and Blake turned her wrist over to read, "I think we're gonna need a bigger boat."

Blake snorted his disbelief, and leaned towards the young agent. He whispered, "SHAW? He seemed a little distracted after he met you."

She nodded.

"I think it's warm enough for you two to have breakfast on the balcony," Felix suggested. "I'll see what I can do about getting you two some privacy. Maybe you two can take the dogs for a run, so you can have some time together. I understand that the first few days are critical for a healthy bond. Shaw's a good guy. He'll treat you well, once he stops crowing about the Chitauri Flambé."

Jemma made a little noise, not too much but enough to inform the two Agents that she was in the room. She rubbed her eyes, pretending to be oblivious to their conversation, and then she carefully sidestepped her way to them.

"Dr. Simmons, we're making breakfast. Can you cook?" Felix asked her.

She nodded.

"Wonderful. Toast, bacon, eggs. Coffee. Let's get started."


The twenty five agents (seriously, twenty five of them in a nine hundred foot apartment complete with two dogs though Shaw and Lopez had been ordered to dine on the balcony by Felix Blake) were having a subdued breakfast when someone aggressively pounded on the door. The mood went from subdued to Alarmed and Armed with Guns in .128325 seconds, Jemma realized.

"TONY!" a female voice protested and Felix groaned as he knew that voice. He almost would have preferred another alien invasion than deal with THAT NUT.

"Stark?" Jacobson asked.

"Sounds like Potts," agreed Felix. He went to the door, peered through the spy hole and asked, "Who is it?"

"The Avengers," announced Tony. "For those that don't know, we're an up and coming boy band who saves the world in our spare time. OW! With a very hot female lead. OW! Seriously, where did you get the Taser?"

"Sounds like Agent Romanov and Pepper Potts aren't happy with Stark," Jacobson explained to the confused crowd. "Someone just armed a Taser."

"What do you want, Stark?" Felix asked even as he wished that he taken a preemptive Tylenol that morning.

"We wanted to pay our respects to Dr. Simmons," another male voice stated.

"Rogers?" Felix Blake groaned. "Who else is out there?"

"Can't you just let us in? I mean, this hallway while… pleasantly quaint… is rather… small and the airflow is rather limited. Banner is looking a little green. It's not from the shawarma, is it?"

Felix opened the door, and motioned for them to come in. The apartment, already long past Fire Code Violating Crowded, became noticeably smaller when The Avengers entered. Tony Stark. Natasha Romanov. Clint Barton. Bruce Banner. Steve Rogers. Thor, sans Hammer, Felix thanked the various Gods because… really… he lived in a small apartment and that Hammer was classified as a weapon of mass destruction. Virginia "Pepper" Potts took one look at the swarming mass of humanity in Blake's apartment and began dialing on her phone. Naturally, Felix thought. She had cell service.

Sometimes he regretted going into Civil Service, as opposed to the Private Sector.

"Dr. Simmons?" Felix requested with as much politeness as he could manage. "There are people and Tony Stark here to see you."

He ignored Tony Stark's look of hurt, but Steve Roger's amusement was wonderful.


Jemma Simmons quickly realized that while the Avengers were there to pay their respects, a guilt-stricken Tony Stark had decided that he was the one to plan Phil's funeral. It would be big, it would be bold, it would be a celebration of his life (she just knew that there would be an open bar, a large stadium style movie screen for speeches by politicians that had hid their head in their asses while Phil died, and probably Captain America-WII era dancers to boot) and she panicked when she realized that her escort to the funeral would be …. STEVE ROGERS. A very earnest and sincere Steve Rogers who apologized profusely for not signing Phil's Captain America trading cards.

Plus it seemed that she had been adopted as a cause by the Avengers as she now had a floor in the Avengers Towers, once it was made safe for occupation.

She latched onto Felix's arm, who hadn't run for the hills… or at least the bedroom as that was the spot furthest away from where she was, and she squeezed hard.

"No….," she whispered, as she was thisclose to having a breakdown. "No, no, no, no. Phil wouldn't want this…"

Blake rallied to her defense.

"Mr. Stark, we thank you for your offer of assistance, but Dr. Simmons regretfully wishes to decline. She will plan Phil's funeral in the manner of which he would approve, as opposed to turning it into a Star - Spangled Banner cluster fuck circle jerk spectacular. Now, please get the fuck out of my apartment."

Phil Coulson had long expressed to Felix his sincerest admiration on how well Pepper Potts managed Tony. Felix was at last able to appreciate the Force known as Pepper Pots first hand. Pepper quickly took control of the situation and had all the male Avengers leave, leaving just her and the Black Widow plus twenty four displaced SHIELD Agents, Felix Blake and two dogs in the increasingly claustrophobic apartment. Though the newly bonded Lopez and Shaw were no longer alone on their balcony as the wiser among the Agents had wished to escape the looming cataclysm by any possible means.

"Naturally, you will be the one to make all decisions. However, if you need any help, financial or otherwise, please reach out to me. I considered Phil a friend, and will do anything for you," Pepper admitted. "Tony means well, but he's…."

"Tony…." was the Black Window's succinct comment.

"I don't need anything," murmured Jemma.

"Actually, I disagree. I have five female agents here who have literally have only the clothes on their backs. They need clothes, Ms. Potts," Blake inserted. "I also see that you have cell coverage. I have an agent here who desperately needs to contact her parents to let them know that their only living child hasn't died."

"I'm assuming that just about everyone here needs clothes?" Pepper asked. "I'm seeing a great many pit bull rescue shirts."

Felix nodded.

"Give me their sizes and I promise you they will have clothes by this evening," promised Pepper. She handed her phone to Felix and added, "I'm sure that agent you mentioned isn't the only one that needs to call a loved one."

"Thank you."


By the time Phil's funeral was finally held, several weeks after his death, Jemma Simmons was physically and emotionally exhausted. She was unable to sleep at night as she dreamed horrible, horrible dreams where a scalped Phil was tortured even as he begged unseen personnel to be permitted to die. In her horrific nightmares, Phil screamed and screamed until his voice broke, and then he continued to mouth, "Let me die. Let me die."

On the day of the funeral, Jemma was escorted to the funeral. He had suggested Nick Fury, perhaps Leo Fitz, but she had latched onto him as the only acceptable escort and she refused to change her mind. He had rapidly assumed the role of a secure anchor as her life turned into an emotional maelstrom. Though it was almost comical as she still called him Agent Blake while he insisted on calling her Dr. Simmons while he henpecked her for not eating the lunch he had made just for her.

After the last visitor had left the funeral, and the two of them at last returned back to Blake's apartment, which now housed just the occasional house guest besides them and the two dogs. It was then that Jemma Simmons' body decided that it had taken enough physical abuse, thank you very much. It was long past time for a reboot of Jemma Simmons. She swooned into a startled Felix's embrace and fortunately, he was able to lower her to the floor without dropping her.

"Hey," Phil softly stated. He was sitting next to Jemma's hospital bed. "You're not taking care of yourself, Jemma. You're not eating, you're not sleeping. You need to take better care of yourself, especially now. Haven't you wondered why your Soul Mark hasn't faded?"

Phil's handwriting had stayed as dark as it had ever been, which was a source of comfort for Jemma. It was though Phil was still here with her.

"I'm trying to hold it together but…" Jemma wept. "Those dreams I have with you begging to die."

"Shh… Part of me is still here with you, Jemma. Remember that," a smiling Phil whispered as he leaned over to kiss her forehead. "Remember the happy times, Jemma."

When Jemma Simmons regain consciousness, she realized that Felix Blake was sitting next to her bedside. He looked… rumpled…and grumpy… and alarmed at his dereliction of duty. Really, his promise to Phil to keep an eye on Jemma Simmons probably meant that she wasn't to pass out on him. Next time, if she decided to repeat the experience, she would try to be less of a bother and swoon in her office.

"Hey," he whispered. "Don't do that again. Next time, I may not be able to catch you. Doc did a bunch of tests, asked me questions to which I didn't know the answers, so she said that she'll have to ask you when you woke. I told her how I can't get you to eat, and that you're surviving on miso soup and egg drop soup and crackers these days."

"Thank you for catching me," Jemma whispered. She reached for his hand and squeezed it. They will still holding hands when the doctor announced she was entering the ward.

"Dr. Simmons, I'm Dr. Greenbaum," the short brunette informed her. "First and foremost, you're exhausted and dehydrated. We're giving you some fluids to help your electrolytes. Also, we've got some interesting test results on you, and Agent Blake wasn't able to answer the necessary questions."

"There is no way I'd know the answer to those questions," protested Felix. "No way in hell."

"Ask away," Jemma offered. "No, don't you leave, Agent Blake. I don't want to be alone."

"When was your LMP?"

Jemma closed her eyes, recalled the last time she had her period and today's date. "Forty days ago. I've been under a great deal of stress, so I didn't think it was that abnormal that I missed a month. Used to happen to me every so often when I was at the Academy."

"Dr. Simmons…the reason why you skipped your period is because you're pregnant," the doctor began, and then paused to let Jemma Simmons digest the news. "If you're correct about your LMP, your human chorionic gonadotropin level is a little high for the baby's gestational age."

"What does that mean?" Felix asked. "Is there a problem with the baby?"

"How high?" Simmons squeaked, as she knew what it could mean. However it wasn't time to panic, not until she heard the level.

"80,000."

TIME TO PANIC.

"Bugger," was Simmon's unhelpful response. "Bugger, bugger, bugger."

"Can someone explain to me what's happening? Or what happened?" Felix requested.

"When a women's human chorionic gonadotropin is significantly higher than the norm for the gestational age, it could mean that she might be having more than one baby," Dr. Greenbaum explained.

"TWINS?" Felix asked.

"Maybe," Dr. Greenbaum admitted. "But we need to run some tests to further confirm."

"Twins," Felix softly repeated. "Twins."

May your strength give us strength
May your faith give us faith
May your hope give us hope
May your love give us love