A/N: Alright everyone! Sorry for a late update this week, but I've been camping and didn't have access to a computer. Anyway, please enjoy and review!

Pacing was getting her nowhere. Jemma knew that. However, that didn't stop her. Pacing was the only way to release her aggression, fear, and boredom within the confines of her cell. Her prison was sufficiently large and not actually that terrible of an accommodation, considering that Hydra was holding her captive. It was about five strides wide and seven long and contained a lumpy mattress with a couple of worn blankets and a table upon which she had a jug of water, a glass, and the remains of her dinner. The food was gross, but it was all she had, she she made do. Bathroom facilities were available if she asked the guard for them. However, that wasn't an option for escape because the guard accompanied her all the way. Also, every guard assigned to her cell was burly and probably weighed twice as much as she did.

She sighed and lay down on her mattress, wiggling until she found a reasonably comfy spot. She put her hands under her neck and stared up at the ceiling. It was grey and uniform.

I wonder if Ward is okay, she thought for what must have been the millionth time. She had talked to him that morning, only a couple hours after she had woken up in the cell.

...

"Jemma?" His familiar voice had come through the phone, full of concern. "Are you okay?"

"Grant?" she had asked, relieved to be speaking to him. He always knew what to do in these situations. Even the simple act of talking to him made her feel slightly calmer.

"Are you okay?" he had asked again.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm scared, though," she had admitted softly, her voice trembling.

"It will be okay," he had tried to reassure her. She had loved him for his attempt to make her feel better. "I promise."

In that instance, Jemma had realized something. Something that she should have realized before they got into this mess. She loved Grant Ward, and she had for a long time. Hydra and Skye had both gotten in the way of those feelings, messing up their relationship. But now, now Jemma knew that she needed to move past his stupid mistakes and accept him for who he was and what he was offering to her.

"Grant? Just in case, I have to tell you that...that I love you." It had felt so good to finally tell him and to finally accept the feelings herself. If she was going to die, at least he knew that she loved him. "I don't care about Skye, or your past, or…"

There had been a strange sound that cut her off at the other end of the line and then she had heard a beep - the line had been disconnected before she could finish. She had stared at the phone in dismay for a second, feeling the disappointment bubbling up inside her. And then the guard standing next to her had grabbed the phone back from her limp hand. She had barely noticed. The disappointment had turned to anger; anger at Garrett for kidnapping her, anger at her situation, and anger that she couldn't be with Ward to hear his response.

Eventually, her rage had slowly died and had been replaced with boredom and anxiety. She had toyed with the idea of trying to escape, but every plan she could think of was unable to get her past the burly guard and the cell's security camera.

So, she had waited, hoping that Ward would come for her.

...

At this point, Jemma was sick and tired of sitting calmly in her cell, waiting for something to happen. Where was Ward? Why wasn't he coming here to rescue her? Logically, she knew that there probably was a reasonable explanation for why he couldn't come to get her, but emotionally, she was upset at him for not coming, regardless of the reason.

A flicker of motion caught her eye in the hallway and she raised her head to look. Nothing appeared to have changed - the guard was seated facing her and what she could see of the hallway was still.

Another glimpse of something...metallic? The shine off the object made her suspect that it was metallic. Hope rose up inside her - it must be Ward. She kept her expression carefully controlled as she sat up on her cot so that the guard wouldn't notice anything amiss. However, she focused intently on the hallway, hoping to see another sign that Ward had to come to get her.

This time when the object flew past, she was ready. Again, she only caught a glimpse, but immediately, she had to bite down on a smile. There was no doubt in her mind - the flying object had to be one of her 'dwarves.' Not Ward, but Fitz, then.

Keeping her expression neutral, Jemma glanced up at the security camera. If Fitz was here, then it was very likely that Skye was virtually involved as well.

A crash brought her attention back to the hallway.

The scene in front of her was very nearly what she had been hoping for ever since she had woken up as Garrett's prisoner.

The guard was lying on the ground, not moving. Standing in the hallway, a night-night gun in his hand, was Fitz. She felt bad that she had hoped for her rescuer to be Ward, but the guilt passed as quickly as it had come, consumed by relief.

"Jemma," he whispered, putting her gun in his holster and jogging over to the cell. "Thank goodness we found you."

"Fitz," she cried out, getting up and running over to the bars. "How did you...?"

"It was all Skye," he said immediately. "She found the video feed of you and she's the one who hacked into Hydra and found the floor plan."

"Is she controlling the security camera?" Jemma asked, pointing at her virtual guard.

"Of course," Fitz smiled. "She's pretty amazing, isn't she?" Jemma didn't miss the slight blush on his cheeks as he said that , but she decided that now was not the time to ask. Also, she could see the earpiece that Fitz was wearing and she assumed that Skye was likely listening in. Later, though, she was going to get the whole story out of him.

"The guard has the keys." She pointed to the unconscious man next to Fitz.

"Convenient." Fitz roughly turned the man over and grabbed the key ring from his belt. The keys jingled together.

"There's no bathroom in here," she smiled, gesturing around. "Garrett likes a clean base."

Fitz chuckled and fit the first key into the lock. It refused to turn.

"What's the plan to get out?"

The second key also didn't work. "We use Happy to scout out our route and follow Skye's instructions. And then," the third key turned the lock easily and Fitz pulled the door open, "we hope for the best."

The first thing that Jemma did with her freedom was wrap her arms around Fitz's neck and bury her face in his shoulder. He held her there for a second, allowing her to soak in the comfort. "Everything is going to be fine, Jemma," he whispered, then let her go.

She started to nod, but then she remembered something - her conversation with Ward. "Fitz, we have to do something about Ward," she cried, then covered her mouth with her hand. A tense second passed, but her outburst didn't seem to have alerted any guards, thankfully.

After they felt safe again, Fitz asked, "What about Ward? Is he a prisoner too?"

Jemma hesitated and put her hand on Fitz's arm. "Not the same way I was."

"Then how?"

"Garrett's using him. I'm sure of it." She grimaced. "I think I was the collateral to ensure his cooperation."

"Any idea where he would be now?"

She didn't respond; she was too busy trying to put herself in Garrett's place to think of what he could possibly have in store for Ward. Both of them were silent for a moment, thinking.

Apparently, they reached the same conclusion at the same time, because both of their eyes widened in horror and realization.

"There's only one thing that Garrett would need Ward specifically for…" she started.

Finishing, Fitz said, "...and that is to take down Coulson. Ward would never be suspected."

Jemma's voice hardened. "We have to stop him."

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