"We shouldn't."
"No…. No, we definitely shouldn't."
"Certainly not."
"It would be…"
"Irresponsible."
"Yes, completely irresponsible. And unprofessional."
"And all around, stupid. And we aren't stupid, are we, Fitz?"
"Course not. I would never call you anything less than brilliant."
"And you've the brightest engineering mind the world has ever seen!"
"Well, that's a bit much. I'm no Tony Stark."
"But that's only because you weren't given unlimited resources to play with since birth. You'll catch up."
"I bet Stark would do it."
"That's has nothing to do with the current circumstances, Fitz. Stark would do anything."
The scientists quieted and stared down at the Berserker Staff sitting on the lab table between them. The pair had tagged and catalogued the instrument and taken every possible data measurement from the staff without actually touching it with their bare hands. Now it was time to box it safely back up and store it according to SHIELD protocol.
And yet, neither of the duo had moved to prepare the storage case, transfixed by the staff.
"You know what would happen if we touched it, Simmons," Fitz said, still staring at the staff. "We can't."
"I know," Simmons said, resigned. "But a part of me really wants to… Just to satisfy that curiosity. But-"
"But a part of you doesn't want to at all and is terrified, I know," Fitz finished for her. "It makes you see the worst, most terrifying and desperate moments of your lives. The moments that would fill you with untapped rage."
Simmons nodded, still keeping her eyes trained on the staff.
"What do you think it would show you?" Fitz asked, quietly.
"I'm not sure, really. I mean, I think I know what it would be, but the only way to know for sure would be to-"
"Simmons!" Fitz cut her off sharply. "You know we can't."
"I know, I know, I just… Don't like not knowing things. That's why I'm a scientist! So I can solve questions!"
Fitz remained silent, patient for her to answer.
"I suppose… I suppose… Well, I suppose it would have been during the Battle of New York, when SHIELD sent us in to collect data on the Asgardian beasts Loki called in. It was such a nightmare, and the buildings we were running around in were so structurally unsound, remember that one even collapsed while we were in it and we barely got out with our lives… And those people, everyone was injured and terrified, and the children were screaming, and…" She trailed off, shuddering. "It's the closest I had ever been to a war zone. We were scared out of our minds but people were looking to us for the answers - we were just kids!"
Fitz nodded, remembering. Their time in New York as SHIELD cadets immediately following the Asgardian attack had been, until recently, the most frightening time in his life as well. The sounds of that building collapsing around them, grabbing Simmons' arm as she tended to a wounded child, pulling her toward an exit as she struggled, insisting on running back and getting the little girl… It wasn't a fond memory, to put it lightly.
Fitz shook his head, trying to move on. "Not jumping out of an airplane?" He asked wryly.
"Oddly enough, no," Simmons said, eyes narrowed as she contemplated her answer, her face the same way it looked when faced with a difficult problem in the lab. "I wasn't really scared during much of that. Well, I'm sorry, of course I was scared, I was bloody terrified the whole time. I just suppressed my fear because it would be useless to let that take over." Fitz nodded. He was all too familiar with her ability to ignore her emotions and remain analytical. "My fear eventually bubbled over," Simmons mumbled, blushing. Fitz assumed she was referring to her hysterics immediately following that day.
"But really, I was just mostly sad," she continued. "Because I knew the moment that we realized I was infected… I knew what that meant. It meant I was going to die that day. We'd seen alien technology before and I knew it could take ages to sort it all out. So there was no possible way we would be able to understand an alien virus in just a few hours. I knew you and the rest of the team would do everything possible to prevent that, but ultimately, outside of an absolute miracle, my time was up," Simmons stopped her reflections at that and looked at Fitz, smiling, "Luckily, my miracle came."
"But really, there was a sense of peace around the whole thing. Immense sadness, of course, but mostly for things I knew I would miss out on - I would never win that Nobel, never be a guest professor with you at the Academy when we're retired and way too old for field work…" At this revelation, Fitz blinked. He hadn't realized she still pictured them as partners decades down the road. Simmons sighed, a far off look in her eyes. "Never get married. Never be a mum."
Hearing Fitz's sharp intake of breath at her last comment seemed to bring Simmons back to reality, "And I was really sad for my family and friends. I was sad for what my death would do to them. To the team. To you." She smiled sadly at Fitz. "But none of that was particularly terrifying or rage-inducing. I suppose if I had more than just a few short hours to contemplate it, I would have eventually landed on rage. Anger that this was happening to me. The stages of grief, and all that. I suppose its easier to react in anger when you're not the one in danger - when it's someone you care about, instead."
Fitz nodded, gathering his thoughts. It was interesting to hear the events of that day from Simmons' perspective. After Simmons' breakdown immediately following her jump, they had never really talked about everything that happened. Fitz didn't ever want to see Simmons cry like that again, and he suspected she was embarrassed.
"What would the staff show you, do you think?" Simmons prompted.
"Uh… Probably the same, I assume," Fitz mumbled, walking over to collect the storage box. "Maybe my da leaving? But probably what you said - the New York work, the building collapsing."
Simmons nodded and assisted him in opening the case. "Well, since I'm sure neither of us want to revisit that again, it's a good thing we are being good little SHIELD agents and following protocol and not touching the staff."
The pair pulled on thick gloves, then tucked their long sleeves into the ends of the gloves to ensure there was no exposed skin as they lifted the staff from the table and carefully tucked it into its case. Simmons snapped off her gloves and motioned at the zip ties resting on the edge of the table. "If you'll finish packing it in, I'll go generate its label," she said, referring to the unique barcode they created within the system for each alien specimen. She flicked on the label printer and slid into her chair, facing away from Fitz.
Fitz hummed in agreement, removing his gloves and going to close the lid on the box. As he lowered it, he paused, glancing quickly at Simmons to make sure her attention was on the computer. Seeing that it was, he angled his body so that it blocked his arm from the security cameras. Taking a deep breath, Fitz darted his hand into the case and brushed his fingertips against the staff for half a second, immediately withdrawing and slamming the case shut.
He froze momentarily, squeezing his eyes shut, experiencing once again the plummeting feeling of his stomach dropping as Simmons fell into the sky on repeat behind his eyelids. Just as he suspected.
Taking a deep breath, Fitz tried to suppress the new addition to that memory - a white-hot rage directed at Simmons for jumping, SHIELD for its stupid protocols, Ward for being the hero, even at the Chitauri for coming to the planet in the first place. He also had the sudden urge to go back and find Professor Randolph and punch the man in the face for trying to flirt with Simmons.
He mechanically snapped the locks shut and zip tied the entire case, providing a double layer of security.
"Dinner?" he asked, clearing his throat and approaching Simmons. Maybe being around her would help calm his emotions the way it had that first restless night. Her cheery agreement made him smile and he felt his overwhelming fury start to abate.
