In the clearing stands a boxer,
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of ev'ry glove that laid him down
And cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame,
"I am leaving, I am leaving."

The Boxer - Simon & Garfunkel

"You need to rest," he whispered. He kissed her face and placed her hand above the state line. "Cuddling. That's all."

"But I want to take my husband in hand," she mocked protested.

"Your… husband…" The pause was very strange, she thought. "Your husband… wants a cuddle… with his wife. For now, just lay with me, please."

"Your wife would love a cuddle." Jemma state it deliberately, without any of the strange pauses and emphasis that Blake had utilized. "Jemma, on the other hand, wonders if you could open your shirt."

His silent response was one quirked eyebrow. Which meant he was feeling amused and playful. AND DIFFICULT.

"I want to rest my head on your chest and I desire skin to skin contact," patiently explained Jemma. "I really need physical closeness right now."

He took his time considering her request (bastard!), then moved as though he was about to unbutton his shirt, but she beat him for the prize. "Let me, I've been wanting to do this for a while."

It was rather difficult to undress a man who wore a button down shirt while he was cuddling in bed with you, Jemma quickly realized. Especially when you were struggling to steal kisses. However, she persevered and he was soon shirtless. More repositioning was required until she once again rested her head on his chest.

"Much better. I been doing a lot of thinking lately," Jemma confessed as she traced "I know you" over and over on his skin, willing the damn Soul Mark to display itself. It would be horribly embarrassing if she had a one way bond. Stalkerish, even.

"About what?"

"After the children arrive. How our life and priorities will change because of them. Once we get somewhat settled, I want to pencil in at least one date night every week for us," she said. "Then as they get older, a quick overnight trip now and then. I don't want my husband feeling neglected."

She felt his emotional pain at the comment and how he needed to compose himself before he spoke.

"Your husband is a… very… lucky man," he finally choked out. "I'm sure your husband knows how jealous some people will be because you're his wife."

It was odd how he was using the third tense, but then again, she had called him, 'my husband'.

"You just keep remembering my husband is a very lucky man," she happily chirped even as she unbuttoned his pants. "I plan on reminding him that every single day."

Felix was dead asleep; his resulting post-orgasmic relaxation had speedily led to him falling asleep. It was rest which the dear man visibly needed, so it gave her an excellent opportunity to ponder what was bothering Felix. Oh, and she got to touch him, because really, her nascent bond required to skin contact to strengthen and stabilize it.

"Hmm… I'm wondering if there is a chemical imbalance in your blood which caused your Soul Muteness," she murmured. "While it's nice to parrot the company line that it's all romance and predestination, a great deal of it involves chemoreceptors. Twenty years with Phil, you must have similar chemoreceptors."

When their dinner arrived, she regretfully woke him as the kids needed to be fed. He was endearingly grumpy and groggy, so she fed him, and then ordered him home and to get some sleep.

After Jemma's commando affection attack and how he had immediately started snoring in the afterglow, (God, he hoped that he had kissed her afterwards at least!) Felix Blake accepted that his batteries were depleted.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning," he promised Jemma.

"Tomorrow you will not visit me, you will call me at your lunch hour, then call me after work," she informed him. "You haven't been sleeping, and you're spending all your time here. Go home, sleep. If I need you, I will call you."

He tried to protest, but she was utterly correct. He was exhausted. With a heaping tablespoon of delaminated with fissures and hairline fractures, also.

"Kiss me," she ordered, so he did. "And the children want a kiss, too."

As was his wont, he kissed her belly three times. Each baby got a goodnight plus a soft 'I love you', while Baby B got a little more. A heartfelt request for her to keep growing.

"She listens to you," sighed Jemma. "Bloody shame she doesn't listen to me."

"It's the pitch of my sonorous baritone," Blake stated. "Your voice is much higher."

"The other babies are jealous as her daddy likes her best," teased Jemma.

God, the knife went right into his heart that time.

"No, assure them that their daddy will love them equally," he assured her, because Phil Coulson was non partial. Felix Blake, on the other hand, was biased to the cast offs, the ignored, the unadoptables. The ones that just wanted… what everybody else had. From just wanting a little more room in her mom's womb, to a warm dog bed with far too many squeaky toys, to a grown man who just wanted someone to share his life.

The Soulless who wanted a Soul Mate.

"Felix?" Jemma's voice interrupted his dark thoughts. "Take tomorrow off from work, you have enough time. You need to sleep, Felix. I hoped that a little affection would relax you, instead you're shutting down on me."

Take the day off, be forced to deal with the man that was about to take everything he ever wanted from him. Yet, he was weary.

"I'm….tired… and it might be a good idea so when we get to the finish line in three weeks, I'm ready for the new challenges in my life," he decided. Yes, he'd have to pack in a hurry.

Jemma giggled, "They're babies, Felix. 'Challenges'?"

He signed, 'I love you' as that had become his traditional goodbye to her and Jemma smiled. "I love you too, Felix."

By eleven PM, Phil Coulson was both worried and annoyed. Felix hadn't responded to his telephone calls or his texts, so he wasn't sure if Felix was still with Jemma (and he ignored the dry snarky inner voice that said, 'Pot, Kettle, BLACK?') or if something had happened to Jemma and the babies, or Felix… and… really…

The dogs, who had munificently decided to stop shunning him as Felix wasn't home, perked up and ran towards the door as they heard the sound of keys jingling. After a few minutes, Felix opened the door and staggered into the room. That done, he relocked the door and set the alarm, which took a few tries until the alarm was properly set.

Felix hissed and cursed his frustration regarding the stubbornness of the alarm.

"You ok, Felix?" Phil asked. He tried to hide his annoyance but really, Felix should have text him or something.

"Still up? Phil, you should have gone to sleep, I dropped off my truck earlier. Walked to O'Malley's and then had SAFE RIDES get me home," Felix slurred. His face was flushed and he accidently dropped his car keys on the floor when he tried to remove his coat. It took several tries for him to locate the keys and place them in the appropriate spot. "I'm…f-f-fine. Feeling really… relaxed… though… Did fucking Tony Stark do something to the apartment? Like make it…rotate?"

He peered in confusion at the NYC skyline visible from their window.

"No, Felix. The apartment isn't rotating," Phil assured him.

"I must be really fucking drunk then," Felix cheerfully admitted. He walked in a crooked line to the kitchen and then rummaged through a closet. After he victoriously closed the closet door, he returned back to Phil, and held a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue in his unsteady grip. "Well…well… well… here's… Johnnie."

"Felix, I thought you didn't drink like this anymore," Phil protested. Early on in their relationship, Felix had been a hard drinking, hard living agent. However, after they had settled into their relationship, Felix no longer drank to excess. Yet now, signs were declaring that Felix was blitzed, and he had pulled out his legendary bottle of Johnnie Walker BLUE.

"Tonight's a very special night. I mean, you've got your memory back. All those angry voice mails messages, Phil. Yelling at me how you need to know what's going with Jemma. How you have to be there for her and the babies. Well, get this, Coulson, you can't fucking be there for her now, because I'm fucking there. Once the babies are born, you can sweep in and be Husband and Daddy," Felix stated.

Felix managed to open the bottle and he motioned at Phil. "Better pour. The building is most assuredly rotating on its axis. Fucking Stark and his goddamn need to improve things that work just fine."

"Felix, I need to let Jemma know that I'm alive," Phil protested. "We will discuss this in the morning when you're sober."

Felix snorted his disgust.

"No, we will discuss this now. Actually, I will tell you what the fucking plan is, Phil. So shut up, pour the Scotch and sit down. As for me being sober, not planning on it for the next three weeks. I plan on living in a lovely coffin… cocoon of comfy numbness. Where's the goddamn Scotch, Coulson? If you're not gonna pour, then I am."

Against his better judgment, Phil poured Felix a finger-worth.

"This is the plan, Agent. When Jemma is wheeled into the Operating Room, you will be there. Until then, she must not know that you are live."

"That's not your decision, Felix," protested Phil.

"It is, because you have no idea of what you showing up will cause to happen. The babies are thirty three weeks along. You showing up, saying 'Surprise, I'm not dead' right now will push her into preterm labor. The children are not ready to be born, which means that they will require extensive medical intervention. Instead of bringing three babies home when Jemma is released from the hospital, they'll probably be in the NICU unit. They might need a feeding tube, Phil or they might require support for their lungs. Might be there for months, Phil and I'll fucking blame you for every blood draw, every IV, every NG tube, every minute that Jemma is separated from the children."

Phil nodded his head in tired understanding.

"She'll be furious enough to birth a litter of kittens, Phil. However, she'll be angry at me, not you," Felix stated. "However, I'll be long fucking gone. I won't be able to watch the happy family, so I'm gone."

"Felix…" Phil protested.

"I'm not married to her. I never signed the paperwork. It is in my dresser drawer," confessed Felix. "I want another drink, Phil. My glass is empty."

"You've had enough, Felix."

"Pour it, Phil. This is the second fucking time you've ruined my life, Phil, so pour the goddamn drink. One of these days, I hope you'll tell me why you get such a fucking hard on by ruining my life. I know you understand… you of everyone… what it's been like for me… to finally have something that I always wanted… n-never thought I'd get ….and then to have it ripped away from me by someone I once believed my closest friend. And you fucking did it to me twice, Phil."

Felix deliberately poked Phil in the chest, dead center where his scar was. "TWICE."

"Felix, you were the one that walked," protested Phil. "I tried calling you."

"After it was too late. I fucking called you five times the night you met Jemma. FIVE FUCKING TIMES, PHIL. I repeatedly called you because all these agents were busy regaling me about your fucking behavior. I decided to keep my pride and delete four of the five messages I left for you. Seriously, Roger's birthday as your pin? So easy to crack, so easy to remove my sniveling messages of 'Phil, can you please call me. Please. Phil, if you found your soul mate, it's ok. I just need to hear it from you.'"

Felix struggled to stand, and then waved his hand at Phil.

"Put the bottle away. I'm going to bed. I may be Soulless, and universally declared as being unacceptable as a Soul Partner, but at least I have my fucking pride, Coulson. Oh, and I've got a fucking apartment lined up already."

He staggered in the general direction of his bedroom even as Phil Coulson rubbed his throbbing temples. "Five times. Felix called me five times because he wanted to hear it from me. Not Garrett."

The next day, both men walked on eggshells, fearful of setting off another argument. Plus Felix Blake had a Tony Stark sized hangover so even the sheer adorability of Nekko grated on his nerves like the sounds of a beginning violin player. Therefore there was silence and the curtains were drawn.

Phil finally stepped in front of Felix to state what needed to be said, "I'll do what you say with regards to Jemma. I don't want to risk anything happening to her or the children. I wish there was a better solution, but I can't think of one."

Felix nodded his head once.

"I'm hoping that you'll reconsider your decision to leave," Phil softly requested. "Don't run, Felix. Please stay."

"I can't," Felix protested. "I simply can't."

"I wish that one day you can believe that I never meant for our relationship to end the way it did," Phil quietly stated.

"I know that, but still, it did."

The next two weeks and five days went by slowly. Felix visited Jemma faithfully in the hospital every day, his heart shattering more and more as he couldn't tell her that her Soul Mate still lived. Finally, the C-section was scheduled for two days hence when Felix received an emergency call from Jemma.

"They want to do the C-section now," Jemma informed him. She hissed loudly before continuing, "Please hurry. I'm in labor."

"Be there immediately," Felix promised. He stood, his legs unexpectedly as rubbery as if this was his first mission because… today was when everything hit the fan. Somehow, he managed to find his coat in his office and put it on after only three attempts. Upon stepping out of his office, he was greeted by a serious Agent Romanov.

"If you'll come with me," Agent Romanov ordered.

"J-j-j-jemma," he began.

She nodded. "I know the quickest way to the hospital. Barton is on his way to your apartment to collect a certain person."

"You know?" Felix asked as he permitted himself to be guided down the hallway.

"Fury was beside himself when he realized. That person has been missing for months, but I assured him that you were handling him very carefully and that he was recovering far better under your care than he previously had."

"Fury's aware? Oh, Christ," Felix swore as they entered an elevator.

"Fury will also inform Jemma that it was his decision and his decision along to keep her in the dark. That you both protested, however due to the extenuating medical conditions, you agreed only after loudly protesting," Romanov explained. "I've heard the tape, it sounds quite convincing. Fury threatened you with insubordination as you told him that he had a one-eyed Odin Complex."

"She'll be furious," Felix murmured.

"Not at you."

Fuck, it was pretty bad if Natasha Romanov was trying to console him.

"You don't know her at all. She'll blame me," Felix protested to the uncaring universe.

When he arrived at the hospital, late due to UN traffic, the staff was wheeling Jemma to the Operating Room. Phil was dressed in scrubs and a puffing Jemma tightly held his hand.

"You're alive," she wept.

"Yes, I am," Phil assured her. "I'm here, and Felix is here now, too. So we can get this party started after he gets into his scrubs. He needs to be in the room with us, as he's been here all along. Right, Jemma?"

For a brief moment, Felix hoped that everything would work out. That Jemma would understand and absolve him of his guilt as everything had been done for her and the children. Upon hearing that he arrived, Jemma turned to face him. Hesitantly, he signed, 'I love you' to her and she turned her face away from him.

Back towards Phil.

Back towards her Soul Mate.

"I don't want him near me. He knew…. He knew you were alive and he didn't tell me," Jemma protested. "Get rid of him. He lied to me, Phil. About that, and God knows what else."

Therefore, Felix Blake left the hospital and began to walk. Back towards the apartment, back the shattered remains of his previous life. He was so focused on flight that he never saw the taxi that ran the red light.