Constellation of the Heart
Author's Notes: This story takes place post-Season 5, after FrozenFitz has been retrieved – and he and Simmons have had some time to take a breath and be alone together.
You could view this also as a sequel to my fic "Hardened by Pressure", but you don't need to have read it in order to read this one. Also, I made one major change from "Hardened by Pressure" regarding Coulson's status – so if you did read that story, I apologize for the retcon!
Warning: In Chapter Two, characters will experience verbal abuse, implied threats of sexual assault, and lewd and homophobic comments.
"In a solitary life, there are rare moments when another soul dips near yours, as stars once a year brush the earth. Such a constellation was he to me." –Madeline Miller in her novel "Circe"
Chapter One: The Kilt
"Well, I've never seen Fitz's kneecaps before. Until today," Daisy muttered quietly.
Yo-Yo realized she had been biting her lip to keep from chuckling at the sight of Fitz in a kilt, so she took the pressure off to reply to Daisy. "I love him, but I can't help but think that men look ridiculous in a skirt. And yes, I know a kilt is not a skirt." She then turned her head and glanced at Daisy, knowing that after what 'The Doctor' had done to Daisy, her own reference to 'loving' Fitz must have dropped like a lead balloon. "Sorry. I know you don't love him – or even like him very much right now."
Daisy took a breath. "No – I mean, we're okay. I had a talk with him and Simmons. I'm still angry but I'm – well, I'm trying."
Yo-Yo placed a hand – a mechanical hand attached and recalibrated by Fitz – on Daisy's back. "That's all we can do. We lived through a war. Or a series of battles that felt like an endless war." She sighed. "Maybe all we can do is forgive and forget."
Daisy's reply was flat but honest, "Like I said. I'm trying."
Daisy and Yo-Yo were with the rest of their team at a quaint and beautiful inn in Perthshire. FitzSimmons had recently spent several days there to rest and recover. They had decided that instead of getting married again - although for Fitz it would have been the first time – they would have a reception once Coulson and May returned. Fitz had also decided to view the 16 days that he missed as if he were experiencing memory loss. It was easier than dwelling on the bizarre facts of what had truly happened.
The team had rented out the entire inn. Along with FitzSimmons, Daisy, and Yo-Yo were Mack, Deke, Davis, and Piper. Fitz and Jemma were thrilled that Coulson and May were also able to attend since returning from their vacation and Coulson's recovery. The anthropologist Margaret Mead had once said 'Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has.' This small team, having done more than their share, was determined to enjoy a few days of rest.
The inn provided an idyllic setting. Although the weather tended towards rain and clouds, the inn itself oozed warmth and comfort. The color scheme was ripe with rich browns and reds, a cozy fireplace crackled in the background, classic paintings adorned the walls, and musty books sat on numerous bookshelves. The innkeeper was determined to stuff the team with tea, cookies, and scones every time they even glanced his way. And when the rain ceased, the inn's garden boasted magnificent views of an array of colorful flowers.
Of course, the decorations that FitzSimmons had selected for their reception didn't quite harmonize with the inn. The main room – the living room – now found a makeshift TARDIS in one corner, and monkeys were everywhere. Monkey streamers, monkey balloons, and even a few sock monkeys adorned the room. There were far more monkey-themed items than flowers. Daisy didn't know where FitzSimmons had found some of them, or how they had convinced the innkeeper to allow this redecoration. He must have taken to FitzSimmons quite a bit during their earlier visit.
Moments earlier, FitzSimmons were inside their room on the second floor, preparing to descend the main staircase and join the waiting team in the living room. The room, with its generous bed, fireplace, and claw-foot tub inside the bathroom had come to feel like a home of sorts, given the recent time they had spent here.
"I haven't see you wear a kilt in so long," Jemma murmured, brushing a piece of lint off of Fitz's jacket.
"Can't remember the last time I wore one myself," Fitz mused. "It would have been long before we became a couple." He shook his head. "Feels like a lifetime ago." He opened his mouth, considering whether or not to say more, but then closed it. He and Jemma had done plenty of reflecting right inside this very inn, talking through the harrowing events of the past few years. Today, however, Fitz felt like focusing on the future and he sensed Jemma did as well.
"Well, I think it looks smashing on you! Maybe someday they will catch on outside of Scotland," she smiled. Her eyes sparkled, and Fitz's heart twisted just looking at them. She then ran her fingers along the kilt's material. "After the reception, I look forward to lifting this kilt up and doing something quite naughty with what's underneath."
"How can it be naughty?" Fitz whispered in her ear. "We're married now." Reluctantly, he took a step back. "But let's stop this talk, wife - lest it make us late to the reception."
Jemma sighed, "You're right." She then glanced at the clock on the wall. It was vintage, carved in what appeared to be cherry oak, replete with Roman numerals and a pendulum. "I think it's time to head downstairs and join the others."
Fitz nodded and reached for her hand. He placed a kiss on it, and they left the room.
Daisy observed the pair as they descended the grand staircase hand in hand. Fitz wore a kilt along with a crisp jacket and bowtie. Jemma opted for a simple gown in light blue; it was floor-length, and the neckline was sweetheart style. Daisy noticed that Jemma wore a necklace she hadn't seen before, and Fitz now wore a wedding ring. Once they reached the bottom of the stairs, FitzSimmons looked at each other, smiled shyly, and Jemma had said, "Well, let's eat!" Music began to play and people headed for the food.
The group milled about the living room, eating and talking. Daisy and Yo-Yo had shared a few moments to quietly remark on Fitz's attire. The innkeeper dashed in and out, refilling drinks and bringing an endless array of food out of the oven. If he thought that this family appeared motley and mismatched, he didn't remark upon it.
At one point, the conversation hit a lull. Coulson cleared his voice and stood up. "Should we say a few words?" the affable leader asked. He then smiled. "It somehow feels like the wedding was just yesterday but also years ago."
Jemma nodded and again reached for her husband's hand. She squeezed it. "It feels that way to me too," she said softly.
Fitz shook his head and smiled. "I wish I could say the same!"
Daisy observed Fitz in that moment. His brow was uncreased, his eyes bright, his shoulders relaxed, and he had just cracked a joke. Did skipping those 16 horrible days that the other Fitz had lived make this Fitz so much more relaxed? No, Daisy decided – it must have been the vacation FitzSimmons had just had here. Daisy tugged at her dress; its design cut just a bit too much into her waist. The concept of vacation was foreign to her. `At least I'm able to look at him now,' she said to herself. Although another part of herself countered that she didn't really want to.
Fitz, his gaze now turned towards Mack, continued, "Mack, I'm glad you filmed it."
"I filmed it for Yo-Yo," Mack said soberly. "But I'm glad it ended up helping you."
"I'm glad I'm able to make the reception since I couldn't be at the wedding!" Yo-Yo chimed in. She wore a pantsuit and her arms were covered.
Yo-Yo happened to be sitting next to Piper. Jemma's eyes darted around the room. Yo-Yo had missed the wedding because she'd been recovering from a horrific injury. Piper had missed the wedding because she had been in lockup. So much trauma, so many mistakes, so much pain. And Fitz – well…Jemma cut off that line of thought. She agreed with her husband; better to view it as if Fitz suffered memory loss and better to think towards the future. Of course, Jemma silently added as her eyes fell upon Daisy, some memories would not be forgotten.
"I think we should at least do a toast," May said, standing up to join her partner, returning the conversation to Coulson's original question. She patted his back, and the rest of the team followed her lead and rose to their feet.
The innkeeper must have heard the word 'toast' because he appeared instantly with a tray of champagne glasses, and began to pass them around. "You are the best, Marcas," Fitz murmured to the innkeeper. "If I didn't love my work so much, I'd stay here forever."
Blushing, Marcas left the room as soon as everyone had a champagne glass in hand.
Coulson again cleared his throat and lifted his glass. "I don't want to just repeat what I said at the wedding. But I do want –"
At that moment, the room was suddenly filled with a crushing, unbearable noise. The sound tearing through his eardrums, Coulson dropped his glass and fell to the floor.
Fitz groggily rubbed his neck and ran his tongue around the insides of his mouth. The aftertaste of the strong tea and sweet scone he'd last eaten at the inn lingered, and when he sniffed, he could smell the champagne that he'd spilt on his jacket. He again tried to open his eyes.
"Easy now, Turbo," he heard Mack's deep voice. "Take your time."
Fitz swallowed and tried to ask a question. It took a few seconds for the words to travel from his brain and out his mouth. "Where are we?" he asked. His eyelids still felt heavy, and he couldn't quite open them.
"We're in a cell with Coulson, Davis, and Deke," Mack said. "Coulson's still out. Davis and Deke are awake."
"Where's Jemma?" Fitz croaked the words out.
"I don't know, Turbo. When I woke up, I was in here with the four of you. We haven't seen Simmons, or Yo-Yo, or Daisy, May, or Piper."
Mack's words impacted Fitz almost as much as the weapon had. He sensed someone taking a few steps towards him and he felt a hand on his arm. Deke. "Don't rush it," Deke said quietly. "It takes some time for that whatever they hit us with to wear off."
Fitz wasn't sure what surprised him more: the gentleness of Deke's tone or the fact that he gravitated towards it. He grasped at Deke, and Deke helped him sit up. Fitz slowly managed to open his eyes; they felt dry and tired. The starkness of what he did see contrasted with the beauty of the inn they had been inside, with the softness of Jemma by his side. Instead now it was as Mack said: Fitz was sitting inside a mostly bare cell with his four male teammates. It was cold. The cell was small; if each man stood up, he'd only be able to take a few steps without colliding into a teammate. At least their arms and legs were unshackled.
"Who captured us? And how?" Fitz asked. Deke kept his hand on Fitz's arm.
"No idea. Our captors have not shown themselves," Mack stated.
The men then discussed the weapon which had disabled them. All they recalled was a piercing noise, and losing consciousness almost immediately. No one remembered seeing anything out of the ordinary. The noise had begun and overtaken them within a second or two, according to their best estimate.
"Coulson once said there's a way out of every cell," Fitz said. "Have you tried – "
"Yeah," Mack said. His voice remained low, quiet, and dejected. "As soon as I could stand up, I searched every inch of this cell."
Fitz turned his head towards what apparently was the entrance to the cell. "An airlock?" he asked.
"Looks like it," Deke observed. There were two doors, like an airlock. Nothing was visible beyond the airlock. "So apparently our captors can pass stuff to us – or pull us out one by one, if they ever show themselves."
"Were Jemma and the others in here before, I wonder?" Fitz speculated, his voice jittery. "Were they in here and our captors took them out?"
"Maybe, but there's no sign of it."
Davis mused, "That was one fast-acting weapon. Daisy and Yo-Yo didn't have time to use their powers; none of us had time to react."
"So we got a hundred enemies, in this timeline alone," Mack quipped. "We just don't know who's powerful enough right now to have developed this."
Fitz brought his hands to his temples and rubbed them. The physical grogginess and discomfort brought on by the weapon were starting to ebb, but the mental agony was just beginning, he knew. Once again, he had been torn away from Jemma. Once again, he had no idea where she was. Fitz suddenly let out a laugh.
"Fitz?" Mack asked.
"You'd think I'd be bloody well used to it by now!" Fitz said, raising both of his hands and then slapping them down against his thighs. "Not knowing where she is, being separated from her. You'd think I'd know how to handle it by now. But I don't!" He forced a breath through his lungs but still felt filled with frustration. "Despite all the times it's happened, I'm not any better at handling being apart from her than I was when the first monolith took her!"
"Take it easy, Turbo," Mack said firmly, as Deke again placed his hand on Fitz's arm. "We'll figure this out; we always do. We always find a way out. And for all we know, Daisy and the others already have and are on their way here now."
Fitz clenched his fists. He wanted to curse the universe again, he wanted to pound his fists against a slab of stone again. This was supposed to be his wedding reception. He was supposed to be eating and drinking inside the cozy inn with his family – with the people who still had your back despite betrayals and mistakes. He was supposed to be retiring to the master bedroom with Jemma, spending hours under the covers with her, loving her in every sense of the word. He thought of the small freckle on Jemma's chest. He wanted to be nuzzling it right now. He wanted her to be doing exactly what she had proposed inside their room before the reception, lifting his kilt up. The garment had felt sexy not too long ago, but now he looked down at his knobby knees and felt exposed and strange wearing the kilt. All he could do now was sit on the floor of the cold cell and hope that Jemma was somehow safe.
Coulson stirred at last, and the team tended to him and began to catch him up to speed. As they spoke with their leader, Fitz's mind began to clear and he noticed a sound in the background. It was subtle and slight, and the type of thing only an expert engineer would pick up. To untrained ears, it was simply white noise or perhaps an air conditioner or some sort of engine humming in the background.
"What is it?" Coulson asked Fitz.
"Listen to that. Only one type of engine makes that particular noise," Fitz breathed. "We're in space."
"In space?" Mack echoed.
"In space. We're on a starship."
TO BE CONTINUED
Author's Note: I realize that I didn't explain how Coulson made a full recovery, and I can only ask readers to just go with it. (I hope the official SHIELD writers come up with a way for him to be okay in Season 6!)
Also, reviews and feedback are always appreciated.