AU beginning in season 4 episode 15: "Self Control"

Note:

Beginning dialogue is from the episode script, I just took some creative measures inbetween the lines. I'll soon deviate from the script and start making up my own stuff so these two gals can become canon!

Also, anything in italics is Jemma's internal dialogue ;)

Most likely will balance updates between this one & my other fic, so at least one will be updated weekly. Enjoy! Reviews appreciated!

"Simmons. What the literal hell?" Daisy panted, hurrying to Jemma's side. "What did I just see? What just happened to Fitz?"

"It wasn't him. It wasn't him." Jemma breathed, Fitz' blood framing her pale, terrified face.

"Did you kill him?" Daisy looked into Jemma's deep brown eyes. All Jemma could see though was that thing's body, begging for her to stop stabbing it, bleeding out into the concrete - a fatal impostor wearing the mask of her best friend.

"No, not 'him.' It wasn't him." The small Brit quivered, trying not to fall to the floor. She trained her eyes on Daisy's hands, waiting for an attack. I'm having a conversation with a robot. A fucking robot. Who might just kill you in a second and turn you into one too, and you'll never escape your eternal residence inside of a mechanical hell.

Daisy blurted, "Are you a robot? Because I just saw a truckload of myself, and Mack is in on it. And Coulson just bashed an agent's head in, and…"

"They were all replaced…you, too." Jemma's heart sank, realizing what she might have to do. Killing "Fitz" was hard enough. Her hands hadn't stopped shaking since she'd plunged the knife into his…no, it's, body. She shivered.

Daisy looked like she was about to argue back, but Jemma shook her head.

"It's not you, it's not you!" Jemma cried, backing up further into the wall. Daisy looked hurt, betrayed even. The scientist almost retracted her statement. But it can't feel emotions, Simmons. It doesn't really care about you. Get yourself together.

"Simmons…it's me. What about you? Prove to me that you're not a frickin robot. Because it looks like you're malfunctioning."

"No way to prove it. You won't know until they kill you." If Jemma's heart could sink any further, it would have. "There's no way to know until they kill you."

Daisy paused for a moment. Jemma's eyes were scared, helpless, guilty, conflicted, and hurt. Daisy knew the LMDs could replicate emotions, but she knew Jemma. This had to be her. The thought of losing the woman beside her - her laugh, her warm brown eyes, her cute little accent, her constellations of freckles, her genius mind and caring heart - to a fucking robot? It was unbearable. Hell, she didn't know how much Jemma meant to her until repeating this cheesy little spiel in her head.

"Give me…give me your hand," Daisy said softly.

Jemma's breath hitched.

"I'll quake you."

Jemma felt a pang of some unrecognizable emotion (possibly even desire?) making her cheeks flush. What the hell, Jemma, calm your tits. But she immediately grew scared, realizing what this could mean.

"Don't touch me!"

"Give me your hand!"

This is the end, Jemma thought. Fuck.

"I'll quake you, not to hurt you! Not to hurt you. Just enough to feel your bones…the…the real bones, and they're not made of metal."

"I'm me." Jemma squeaked. No duh, Sherlock. "I hope. I'm not one of them." I bloody hell better not be. Oh God, what if I am? What if we both are?

"I can prove to you that I'm not one either." Daisy smiled weakly, talking fast like she did when she had some crazy idea or whim. "An LMD wouldn't have inhuman powers, right? That way, we'll both know."

Jemma shut her eyes in disbelief, opening them and panicking. "Don't touch me!"

Jemma's heart lunged in her chest as Daisy grabbed her. She felt strong arms wrap around her torso followed by an odd sensation, like sitting in an earthquake, inside the fault zone, with a protective bubble around her. Even though that isn't plausible.

Daisy's arms tightened around Jemma, who breathed heavily, trying to process what had just happened. It's Daisy. Jemma shuddered with relief as the realization dawned on her.

Jemma wasn't used to physical contact, so it surprised her that Daisy was holding on so tight. But Jemma melted into the comfort of the other woman's arms, a tear or two streaking down her face as she was held by her friend. She snuggled her head into the crook of Daisy's neck, desperate to cling onto the one human she knew in this building. Daisy's chest rose and fell heavily against Jemma as the two stood there savoring that moment. It's really Daisy, Jemma thought, grabbing Daisy's shirt as an anchor to this world. And I'm really me.