Leo wandered into the lab. Jemma was working away in her own half of the lab, wrapped up in some kind of official mission work. The engineer, on the other hand, had been assigned absolutely nothing. Instead, he settled on a stool to watch her work her magic.

I'm not Hermione, her voice echoed in his memory, bringing a small smile to his lips. On that train of thought, he began to polish the ICER, a light smile playing over his face.

They worked companionably as they usually did, bustling around the lab and completing their tasks one by one. Hours spun by on the clock, only stopping for lunch at exactly 12:30 and resuming just before the clock struck 1 o'clock.

The door slid open and the resident hacktivist wandered into the lab, arms loaded with her laptop and several other gadgets, ranging from com systems to a hair curler. Simmons continued to bestle around her work station, which was now emitting a slight hissing noise from the chemicals.

"So Fitz-" she started. "Oh, I mean, Skye. Hello there," she stuttered awkwardly.

"It's fine, Simmons," replied the hacker with a soft smile. "Just came down to tell you that we're all moving our stuff into these base. Guess we're rooming here for the, as AC/DC put it, 'foreseeable future'. Just so you know, and all." Jemma flashed her a grateful glance and continued to manipulate her solution, ceasing the hissing noise after a few more moments.

"Well, I'm out," Skye said, excusing herself.

"See you later, then," replied Simmons. Leo fiddled with one of the DWARFs, hands still shaking and grasping only with great difficulty. Suddenly, as he tightened a screw, the jittering sent it crashing to the counter, startling his partner and nearly sending the chemical solution completely off the counter, had it not been for a quick save on Jemma's part. Quiet, she placed the beaker on a more secure location and took a long, wavering breath.

"Oh, this is all my fault," whispered the biochemist.

"I don't blame you," Fitz replied, his words soft on the air.

"It's all because of me."

"No, of course it isn't. I chose this."

"It should have been me."

He slammed his hands into the counter, a plethora of curse words springing to mind but not quite suiting the situation. "Goddammit, Simmons, why don't you hear me?!" he roared. She sighed and put her face in her hands.

"I'm so sorry."

"Oh, Jemma," he breathed. Silence wrapped around them and they each turned back to their own counters and individual work.

After another hour or two, he watched as his partner stood and stretched. Now was usually about the time where she would wander the base and he'd return to his room for a bit, just as a break from all the work. Today, though, he followed her down the hall and into the medical wing. He hovered near the entrance but didn't step inside, instead choosing to watch as Simmons approached the hospital bed. A patient sat there, hooked to wires and electrodes, needles and IVs.

Wrapping her hands around his, she whispered to the comatose form, "I miss you, Leo."

And he watched from the doorway as she cried.