Drabble 34: Torn Asunder (Part Two)
Darren ordered Simmons to hit Fitz many times. He thought it was more of a punishment to only have one scientist under his control, so the other could speak and move as they wished. So he could see Fitz's reaction, since he couldn't see Simmons's.
She hated doing it, but Fitz never made a sound. He may have made sounds in pain, but that was it, and only minimally. He took every hit like Ward would have, with a straight face. He never looked at her either, just kept glaring at Darren and looking with pain-filled eyes at the floor when he had to. But she could tell it was taking its toll. There were bruises forming on his face from so many strikes, slaps, and punches.
And she could tell Darren was becoming bored. She knew he had expected Fitz to show much more emotion than this, and felt a flush of pride in Fitz for what he was doing. But she also felt a thrill of fear. What else would Darren make her do?
She'd tried to stop herself, but she couldn't. She was a prisoner in her own body, in her own mind, and he was the jailer. But she felt her own awareness grow as she kept hitting Fitz. Seeing him more hurt, growing weaker because of what she was doing to him. She thought that might be how to best Darren. He'd said his serum was great because the affected person controlled their own thoughts, but none of their own actions. But actions could be controlled by thoughts. If she could make herself aware enough, or break free even just a bit more, maybe she could fight back. Or maybe the serum would wear off more quickly than Darren planned, though she doubted that would happen.
She felt her thoughts flow much more easily after realizing that.
She could feel a tingling sensation now in her muscles. She tried moving a finger and noticed it twitch, just slightly. If she could have smiled, she would have. Logic had always helped her, and now it would save her.
"Alright Simmons. Stop."
Her hands moved to her side. She hadn't realized she had still been hitting Fitz, she had been so lost in thought. She was regaining control. His head was drooped against his chest, and he was breathing heavily; but he was still awake, if only barely. That was a good sign.
"I have to say I'm impressed, Fitz." Darren said. "You've gotten stronger."
Fitz met his eyes and glared more fiercely than ever. She could tell he was too tired to speak for the moment.
"But I don't want to see you being strong. I want you to know that you're going to die, and at the hands of your precious partner." He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a knife. He had obviously planned this out very carefully. "Simmons, cut his arm."
She took the knife from him and whipped it across the flesh on Fitz's arm, tearing through his shirt and leaving behind a bright red wound, blood springing to the surface. It was a shallow cut, but Fitz winced slightly. The blood made Simmons panic for a second. Yes, she was trained to deal with blood. She had never expected to be making someone bleed like this; especially not Fitz.
It was what she needed to feel more in control, and she stepped back – successfully. Darren didn't notice, so she stepped back again, slowly, putting distance between herself and Fitz. She had to make her move now, before she had to strike Fitz again. But how could she get out?
Unfortunately she didn't even have time to think of a way to escape. Darren looked at her again, and he had a wicked glint in his eyes now. "Kill him." He said. "Stab him in the heart."
NO! she thought.
Simmons gripped the blade tightly, with that bit of blood on its tip, fist clenched and shaking as she stood there, muscles tensed.
"Do it!" he yelled.
Her body started moving forward, towards Fitz. Half of her mind screamed at her to move faster and just do as instructed. The other half screamed back that it was Fitz, and she couldn't hurt him, it didn't make sense. She hadn't realized how hard it would be to fight his commands.
She stepped over to reach Fitz and stood only two steps away, easily enough distance to lunge and plunge the knife in his chest. But she managed to stop there, two steps away from him, her body trembling with the effort as her mind waged war against itself.
"Do it now!" the voice was angrier now, impatient.
There was a horrible tension building in her head as her body tried to respond to two different wills – hers and Darren's. It was impossible to do both fully.
She raised the knife to her chest level, and then cried out as the pain inside her head became overwhelming. And it wasn't only thought this time. She screamed out loud as her head exploded with agony, actually torn on what to do. Her vision went white, and the arm that held the knife fell, still going towards Fitz.
Fitz was worried about Simmons. What she was going through… he couldn't imagine it if he had been in her place. It would have broken him.
He was honestly exhausted, but when Darren told her to kill him he felt some energy come back into him. He also saw Simmons react.
In all the time she had been following Darren's orders, she hadn't shown anything on her face. Now he saw her, the real her, flickering between that blindly obedient soldier. And he could see how much pain she was in.
Darren was a bastard.
Fitz knew he had to get out. He started tugging at the rope tied around his wrists and found that it actually slid a bit. His hands were sweaty, and now he was grateful for it. He shimmied his hands as far out of the rope as he could and then started trying to untie it. He could feel the knot; he just needed time to get it undone.
And then Simmons stepped forward again, so she was once more close to him. He saw that fake face for a second, and then her eyes filled with pain. And then she screamed.
It was the most horrible sound he had ever heard, and mostly because of whom it was coming from. He felt his hatred for Darren grow in that instant. Then Simmons fell forward, and he saw the knife glint. It scraped down his leg as she fell onto her knees, clutching her head with her eyes squeezed shut. Then she whimpered and fell to the floor.
The cut on his leg was shallow, though it still hurt. But he couldn't care less about the cut. All his attention was on Simmons, Darren, and untying himself.
Darren walked over and looked at Simmons. "Poor thing." He said. His voice lacked any remorse. "She couldn't take the pressure." He looked down at Fitz. "I guess I'll have to finish what she started." He reached down to take the knife from Simmons's loose fingers, smiling.
Fitz moved his fingers furiously but carefully, and his bindings came apart. He lunged and tackled Darren to the floor before he could retrieve the weapon, and then brought a fist to the other man's head. He did this repeatedly, until Darren was groaning and had his eyes closed.
"This is for Simmons, you bastard." Fitz said. He delivered one more punch to Darren's temple and shoved him aside. Then he ran over to the door and tested it, to see if it was unlocked. It was. He realized it must have only locked from the outside when Darren entered the passcode.
He didn't really think through what happened next; he just acted. He tied Darren to the chair he had been held in minutes before and then knelt next to Simmons, inspecting her. She was asleep, which was probably for the best. It gave her mind some peace, and he didn't know how long that serum would last. Once he realized she wasn't in immediate danger he went over to Darren's briefcase, searching for the phone Simmons had tried to use earlier.
It wasn't in the case, but he saw it lying on the floor some ways away. He ran over and picked it up, dialing Coulson's number and bringing the phone roughly to his ear.
"Coulson." He said once it connected.
"Fitz? What's wrong?"
"We need help."
"Tell me where you are. We'll be right there."
Fitz did, and listened as Coulson told May where to fly to. Then he told Coulson what had happened.
When Coulson got there, finding the door wedged open, he found Fitz sitting on the concrete floor, next to a motionless Simmons. It's one of the worst sights a leader can see after hearing his team has been in danger. Thankfully he knew the details, and that both scientists were marked, but not seriously injured.
They were safe.
Simmons opened her eyes to see everything familiar. The ceiling, the walls, the lights; and most importantly, Fitz. He was sitting beside her bed, looking at her. His face was bruised, and he had a bandage over one arm. She had done that to him.
"How are you?" Fitz asked after a moment.
She moistened her lips and half smiled. "I don't have any lasting urges to kill you."
She sounded angry, and with herself. But Fitz smiled and reached for her hand. "You don't know how glad I am to hear that."
"Fitz, I-."
"Let me talk." He said over her. She reluctantly closed her mouth and nodded. "I'm sorry I got us into that situation. I should have been able to hold Darren off long enough for you to call Coulson, at least. Instead he brought down both of us in a minute. I won't let that happen again."
"Fitz, none of that was your fault. If anythingI pressed you to go. Darren is the one to blame, though. He made us… made me do that."
"Jemma, that wasn't you."
"I know that, Fitz. I understand that I couldn't have stopped it no matter what I did, not any sooner."
He waited for her to speak; he could tell she had more to say. But she was silent, so he asked what was wrong.
She looked at her lap for a second, and when she spoke her voice was fragile. "What's bothering me is how close I came to breaking. When he told me to… to kill you, I fought back with everything I had. It was enough to combat his influence, like you saw. But it tore my mind apart. I could feel it pulling in two different directions, and something almost snapped. It scares me."
He searched her face. "You're alright though, aren't you?"
"I don't know."
Her voice was like a whisper, and he instinctively tilted her face back up to look into his. "I do. You're too strong to let a man like Darren damage you."
He sat with her for some time, and after a while she smiled at him. The mind was incredibly powerful, but also extremely fragile. She had been through a serious trial, and it might take her some time to feel completely back to normal. But Fitz was right: she wasn't damaged; she was only scared. "Thank you, Fitz. You're right; I'm fine. I'll just need time to… move on from some things."
"Luckily, we have plenty of that."
She laughed lightly, and he knew she was coming back to herself. She had been shaken up. What she had described sounded terrifying, and he marveled at her strength. He would help her with anything she needed, though he doubted she would need him for much more than support. This was something she had to get through herself, internally.
She would use this to get even stronger, after recovering. And he would help her. They would get stronger. Together.
A/N: So there's the end of Drabble 34: Torn Asunder. I really hope you enjoyed it. I won't be able to write for the next couple days (mini vacation!), so hopefully this tides you over till next week. Anyway, review/favorite/follow, and give me more ideas to work with. Thanks for all your support guys!