A/N: I felt like the events of this episode were so traumatic for this pair that they deserved a little chance to cry or be angry or just let it all out.
"There!" exclaimed Fitz in satisfaction, sliding the final tube into the chamber of an injection gun.
He smiled proudly, observing the row of loaded injection guns in front of him, each loaded with a carefully measured vial of Chitauri anti-serum, and rose. Fitz groaned as he slowly stretched, his back tight from hours hunched over the lab table.
And, the engineer reasoned with himself, glancing at the clock and not at all surprised to see it significantly past midnight, the ache in his body probably had a lot to do with the unreliable adrenaline high he had been riding all day. It was to be expected, he told himself, practically hearing Simmons' voice telling him the same.
Simmons.
Fitz ran a hand through his unruly curls and shook his head, trying to physically shake away any thoughts of his partner.
Every time he thought of her, he just saw her falling out of the airplane, over and over. After their conversation in his bunk, Simmons had left and he had tried to sleep, but when he closed his eyes he just saw the same horror movie on replay.
Simmons, her name falling off Coulson's lips as Fitz was alerted to her condition. Simmons, her eyes starting to water as they stared at one another, the glass wall of the lab separating them. Simmons, her hair falling out of her ponytail and looking so frazzled, so very un-Simmons, that anyone who'd met her for even a second would know something was wrong. Simmons, her familiar voice reminding him not to call it a vaccine. Simmons, looking so heartbroken when the lab rat floated to the top of its cage, indicating they had failed yet again, that he wished he had been infected instead.
Simmons, falling out of the plane. Simmons, being sucked into the air, away from him. Every time he saw it, his stomach dropped painfully, making him feel like he was the one plummeting to earth. To death.
Simmons. Simmons. Simmons.
Jemma.
His stomach rumbled loudly, snapping Fitz out of it. He carefully stored the anti-serum guns in a bin that would be convenient for any future run-ins with the terrible virus. He had been so worked up and his brain buzzing nonstop that after a few hours of tossing and turning, Fitz had marched to the lab, determined to get the visions of Simmons out of his head. He wanted to do something that would actually be useful towards ensuring he would never have to see that look of fear on her face again.
Satisfied with a job well done, Fitz headed toward the kitchen, seeking out another distraction from sleep and the endless torture that awaited him if he closed his eyes.
"Je - Simmons?" Fitz asked, surprised when he walked in to see the girl who was currently haunting him quietly preparing a cup of tea in the kitchen.
Well, the engineer figured, if he couldn't avoid memories of her, maybe he could replace them with happier ones.
"Oh, Fitz! Hello!" She said, just as startled by his presence as he had been by hers. "Tea?" She asked, quickly putting down her cup and hurrying to prepare another cup before he could answer.
Fitz just hummed in thanks, walking up to join her at the counter, then spotted lunch meat piled up on a plate next to the stove. He hopped up on the counter, swinging his legs as he watched her. "You making a sandwich?" He asked, eyebrow cocked in amusement.
Simmons gave a tight smile, avoiding his eyes. "Yes, well, I was trying to…" She trailed off, taking a breath to collect her thoughts, "Well, yes."
Fitz nodded. She wasn't telling him something. "At 3 o'clock in the morning?" He prompted.
Simmons stayed silent, pouring Fitz's tea and finally looked at him when she handed him the cup. "I couldn't sleep," she admitted. "I just kept seeing your face as I jumped out."
Fitz paled and stopped swinging his legs, a shiver running down his back. The horror movie in his mind returned.
"Me too," he said. "Well, the same thing, just from my point of view." He said.
The pair were silent for a long time, sipping their tea and lost in thought. Simmons pulled a chair over from the table and sat down. After a moment, Fitz hopped down and mirrored her actions.
"So that led you to making a sandwich?" He finally asked, trying to bring the conversation back to happy thoughts.
For some reason, Simmons ducked her head and avoided his eyes. "Something like that," she confessed shyly.
"Simmons? What's going on?"
"Well…" She trailed off, her cheeks flushed. She rushed out her next words, talking so fast the words blended together. "I just wanted to say thank you for saving me, and I didn't know what to do, so I wanted to make your favorite sandwich, but we only have half the ingredients." Fitz continued staring into her hands, her speech returning to normal speed. "Coulson said we may stop by the Hub soon, and if that happens, I'll restock all the supplies I need, I promise," she said eagerly, looking up to meet his eyes. "But I'm so sorry, we're out right now," she said, her eyes starting to well up with tears.
"Woah, woah, Simmons!" Fitz exclaimed, twisting sideways in his chair and enveloping the scientist in a tight hug, "It's okay! You don't have to give me anything! It's just a sandwich!"
"Yes I do! You saved me! I was going to die and…" Simmons' body shuddered against Fitz's as she was wracked with sobs, "You saved me, which was impossible. It shouldn't have been possible, Fitz, I should be dead!"
"Well, really, Ward is the one who-"
"No, Fitz! You! Not Ward, you! It's only because you're so bloody brilliant that I'm not dead, floating in the ocean right now!"
"Shh, shh," Fitz murmured, rubbing his hands up and down her back soothingly, tucking her head onto her shoulder so the pair were wrapped up in one another, "It's okay."
"Yes, it's okay because you did the impossible!" Simmons continued hysterically, her voice continuing to rise. "You did the impossible, and I can't even make you a sandwich!" She cried, her voice breaking as she clutched Fitz's sweater tight between her hands, pulling him even closer.
In any other circumstance, Simmons' despair over lunch meat would've sent Fitz into a giggling fit. But he knew Simmons needed to let it out, and really, he did too. And if he was being honest, holding her tightly in his arms, a constant, physical reminder that she was alive, was just what he needed to rid himself of the waking nightmare of her fall.
So he remained quiet, shifting slightly in his chair to make them both more comfortable, and squeezed tighter, holding the sobbing biochemist to his chest like she could slip through his arms at any moment.
Like she almost had just a few hours before. The thought hit him quickly and Fitz allowed himself a few tears of his own.
Several minutes passed before Simmons' sobs seemed to slow and her tears began to dry. Still he held her tight.
Only when Simmons sighed loud, releasing her grip on his shirt to reach up and brush away the runny black mascara tears that had collected under her eyes, did Fitz finally loosen his grip.
"Thank you," Simmons whispered sincerely, staring Fitz directly in the eyes.
Fitz squeezed her lightly one last time before releasing her, his arms already seeming empty without her there. "You don't ever have to thank me, Jemma," he said, smiling. "I did it partly for myself, you know. I don't know how I would build all these designs we have half-completed with you."
Simmons smiled as she continued to sniffle, grabbing a napkin from the table and dabbing her eyes. "Ah, I see. So your heroics were really more motivated by desire to avoid extra work in the future."
"Great deduction, Dr. Simmons," Fitz smiled back.
"So…" Simmons asked, obviously embarrassed by her unexpected vulnerability. "So… I've been keeping myself busy obsessively cleaning my bunk and messing around the kitchen. What have you been doing all night if you couldn't sleep?"
"Loading injection guns with the Chitauri anti-serum," Fitz responded carefully, watching Simmons' face for a reaction. "Now we have a dozen guns loaded and ready to go the moment anyone catches that thing."
To Fitz's happiness, Simmons' reaction was that of delight instead of despair. "Fitz, how wonderful! Oh, I wish you had told me though - you know I would have been more than happy to assist you."
"I know," Fitz admitted, then shrugged. "I thought you would need a good night's sleep."
Simmons snorted, "I guess I didn't really fulfill that expectation this evening. But I am glad to hear you've finally started referring to it as an 'anti-serum' instead of a vaccine."
"Oh, I knew it was an anti-serum all along, from the first time you corrected me," Fitz admitted. He braced himself for the question that was sure to follow.
"But… Then why did you keep calling it a vaccine?" Asked Simmons, puzzled.
"I think…" Fitz stared down into his teacup, "I ever time you nagged at me, it was a reminder that it could be the last time you ever nagged at me, and I didn't want that to be true. And I think I hoped that if I kept getting it wrong, you wouldn't leave. You would stick around because you'd see that I still needed you."
At his confession, Simmons' floodgates opened right back up and she renewed her sniffing.
"Oh, no, Jemma, I didn't want you to keep crying, lass, I'm so sorry," Fitz said, wrapping his arms around her quickly.
But the act was interrupted by a beeping oven. Fitz looked a Simmons, who didn't seem surprised, "You cooking something?"
"Baking, actually," she corrected, wiping her tears and standing. She walked to the oven and pulled on some oven mitts before opening the oven door.
A waft of sweet, chocolatey aroma escaped the oven and Fitz immediately stood and rushed over as Simmons pulled out a tray of chocolate chip cookies.
"Simmons, you didn't!?" He asked, immediately reaching for a cookie before Simmons slapped his hand away, trying to save him from burning himself. Fitz ignored her and reached for it again anyway, hissing in pain and tossing the cookie from hand to hand in an effort to save his fingers and cool it down.
"Yes, I did," she said, rolling at her eyes at his antics. "Honestly, you're going to burn the roof of your mouth again, just like you did after the Physics exam 2nd year and I you snickerdoodles."
"Worth it," Fitz said through a mouthful of very hot cookie. "Thanks, Simmons," he said, smiling and hugging her with one arm while reaching for another cookie with his free hand.
Simmons closed her eyes and tilted her head onto his shoulder, "Thank you too," she said quietly, finally allowing herself to relax for the first time since they had discovered the Chitauri virus.
