Drabble 56: Nothing Left To Say

A/N: This is for Spitfire303.

And I just wanted to let you know, I recently started a new story called The Barriers That We Face. It's about the season two finale, and what I think might happen. If you're interested, check it out (I recommend you do!)! I just put up the third chapter! Thanks!

When Fitz and Simmons found the cure for the Chitauri virus, they thought all their troubles with it were done. Simmons didn't seem to have any lingering effects from it. She recovered quickly and easily after the antiserum was administered to her.

But no one knew about the virus; not really. Simmons had the best knowledge of it of anyone, as did Fitz. But once they found a cure they stopped studying it.

They didn't know that it had a second wave, different from the first. It lay dormant in the host body, waiting for the perfect time to strike. And it passed when an infected person touched another.

As Simmons had touched Fitz, before she was cured.

It was months after the Chitauri virus had affected Simmons. Times seemed good. And then Fitz caught a bad cold.

"You've got quite the temperature." Simmons said worriedly.

"It'll go down." Fitz said.

"Yes, but you should go lie down. Try to make it go down faster."

He wanted to continue working with her, but she had a point. So he walked to his room and lay down on top of his sheets, closing his eyes.

He woke up an hour later, drenched in sweat. He groaned and tried to sit up, immediately falling back against the bed. He took a deep breath and forced himself up. He had to get to Jemma. Something was very wrong.

He got up and shook his head to clear it. To his surprise it seemed to help, and he walked back to the lab.

Jemma was facing the wall, bent over notes. She didn't hear him come in.

"Simmons." He said.

She jumped a bit and turned around, starting to smile. Then she stood up, her eyes widening. "Fitz!"

She started to come closer to him, but he held up a hand. "I don't know what's wrong." He said. "I don't know how contagious it is, so I don't think you should come too close to me. I just wanted your opinion."

She stopped a few steps from him, clearly wanting to step closer. "Fine. How do you feel?"

"Like I'm being cooked." He said.

"You only slept for about an hour." She said, looking at the clock. "Your temperature's spiked extremely rapidly."

"Is it that bad?"

"I can tell just from looking at you. You look awful Fitz. And I'm not trying to be mean. I'm a bit worried."

"What should I do?"

"Let me take a closer look."

Now he was the one hesitating. "Be extra careful."

She nodded. "You know I will be."

"Alright then." He relented. "Let's see what's wrong with me."

Simmons performed every basic test she knew on Fitz. His temperature was high – 102.5 – but what worried her was how hot his entire body was. It was a steady heat, not like other fevers. And it was rising.

He had gone from cold-like symptoms to positively burning up in just over an hour.

She had never seen that before.

The first thing she did after all the basic tests was take a blood sample. While she was setting it up to be analyzed she looked at him. His curly hair was limp on his head, his face covered in a slight sheen of sweat. His eyes were starting to dull, but she could tell he was fighting it. She could see the crystal determination.

When she looked at the blood, she almost missed it. "It's not possible." She said softly.

"What's not?" Fitz asked, standing and walking to look over her shoulder.

The monitor showed the scan of Fitz's blood, with an analysis comparing it to the sample on his file already cued up on the left side.

There was an alien body in the blood, one that she knew all too well. "Chitauri." She said, her voice still a whisper.

"But we found the cure for that." Fitz said. "And these symptoms are completely different."

"It appears… it appears the virus has a second form." She said, her voice devoid of emotion.

"Can't we just try to use the antiserum?"

She turned to face him. "We can try, but I don't know how much it'll help."

"Hey." He said. He waited for her to meet his gaze before continuing. "Don't give up. We haven't even started yet."

"But we have!" She said. "I thought we were done with the Chitauri."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry." She said. "I'll get a shot of the antiserum ready."

"Okay." He said softly.

Fitz understood why Jemma felt so defeated. It had been so hard for him to not act exactly the same way she had. When she'd said the name Chitauri… it was as if he'd stepped inside a vacuum. His throat had closed, his blood seemed to stop. He'd been flooded with fear.

And then he'd seen Jemma.

For some reason, he'd known that he couldn't show the fear that she was. She had almost died from this virus a few months before. She had thought it would just be a horrible memory. And now it was attacking Fitz.

After she administered the antiserum, though, he had a realization. He could have gotten the virus from her, but he didn't care about that. What he did care about was the possibility of infecting her with this altered strain. Would she be more susceptible to it because she'd survived the first?

He had no idea.

He couldn't risk it.

So when the antiserum failed to do anything except make him a little drowsy, he decided to force her to leave. His fever was getting worse. He thought he knew where it was going.

He was going to burn up. Literally.

His temperature had reached 104. No matter how much water he drank he felt thirsty constantly. And when he'd gotten stressed, his shirt had started burning.

He was going to burn.

She could see it in his eyes.

He was going to ask her to leave. He was thinking himself a lost cause, and trying to keep her from getting infected.

Just like she had tried to save him.

But he didn't seem to get that she was immune to this form of the virus.

Probably.

She wasn't going to leave his side. She made sure to keep him drinking water, though she could see how rapidly he was dehydrating. She had seen his shirt start to smoke when he'd first realized what the virus would most likely do to him.

The antiserum hadn't worked. She hadn't thought it would. But she did have an idea of where to find the one that would.

She was just about to tell him when she heard him say her name.

"Jemma."

"Don't." she said. "Don't say it. I'm not leaving, and you can't make me."

He was silent.

"And don't even think about trying what I did."

She heard him sigh. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, desperation clear in his voice. "I can't get you infected, Jemma! I can't! I almost lost you once because of this!"

"You think I want to lose you?" she asked. Her voice was calm, considering the emotions swirling through her. "I know there's a risk, Fitz, but it's very small. And I don't care."

He looked at her, his stare burning into her, breathing heavily.

"I have an idea." She said. "I think my blood can give us the antiserum this time."

He just looked at her for another second, and then he blinked. "I don't know why I didn't think of that."

"Probably because you wanted to protect me." She said. "Now are you going to let me try it, or do I have to convince you more?"

"I'll get the system ready." He said.

She rolled up her sleeve and wiped her arm with a sanitary wipe, and then took a breath and drew her own blood. She didn't really have a problem with it, but it wasn't the best feeling. Especially doing it to herself.

She used the same tools she and Fitz had months before, when they created the first antiserum. And ten minutes later she stood next to him, the dispersal system in her hands.

"Ready?" she asked him.

He nodded. His fever had gone up to 107, and just standing this close to him left her skin burning. So she administered it into his right arm.

They waited a minute, two minutes, hardly daring to breathe.

"It… it's not working." He said.

She shook her head slowly side to side. "No." she said. "No, it has to work. I should have the immunity to it. It's supposed to work."

"Jemma." He said. "My temperature's rising."

His eyes were closed, and she had to take a step back. She couldn't touch him. His skin was red now, and she could see the heat waves coming from it.

Then he collapsed.

"Fitz!" she cried.

She had expected him to be knocked out by the antiserum, but this looked different. He was still red, but he was tossing and turning. He should have been limp.

He was taking great shuddering gasps now.

"Don't do this!" she cried. "Stay with me!"

She didn't care that his touch burned her. She threw her arms around him, biting her lip to keep from expressing the pain it caused her. "Please, Fitz!"

How long she stayed like that she didn't know. He felt so hot against her that she was almost forced to let go. And then he stopped gasping, and she felt the heat start to ease.

She sat up and looked at his face, sniffling. It was going from beat red to pink, his body cooling down.

"Fitz." She said.

And she realized she was crying.

Fitz opened his eyes and sighed. He felt wonderfully cool. There was no trace of the burning he had been experiencing before. He was actually a bit cold, but he was glad to be.

He was alive.

When his temperature had started going up that last time, he had thought he was done. So when he opened his eyes, feeling cool and rested, he was happy.

And then he saw Jemma sitting next to him, her eyes red from crying. "Hey." He said. "It's okay."

"I'm supposed to be the one saying that." She said through faint tears. She smiled though.

"It's alright. You did save my life."

"Well I wouldn't be a very good friend if I hadn't."

"No." he said. "No, you wouldn't be."

He felt his throat close, preventing him from saying everything he wanted to. Jemma had saved him. He hadn't even tried to save himself, and she had fought for him. She stood by him without knowing if she could catch the virus. She cared for him.

He tried to communicate all of this as he looked at her, their eyes locked. She seemed to get the message.

"Are you burnt?" he asked suddenly.

She looked startled and looked at her arms, which were blistered red. "A bit." She said.

"I did that." He said.

"No, Fitz." She said. "I did that."

"It was my body that burned you."

"It was me that insisted on holding you."

And just like that they were silent again, their eyes locked once more.

They both knew they would die for each other. They both knew they would do everything in their power to save each other's life.

There was nothing left to say.