A/N: Wow, I'm honestly surprised that people liked this story! But really happy - it's something I'm looking forward to continuing. It's very different from what I usually write.
Enjoy and review!
She remembers.
It was because she saw him today, for the first time since the 'accident.' She was back, briefly, from her undercover assignment in Hydra. They thought that she was on a research mission, and she was, but she stopped by to see how Fitz was. She had to.
Unfortunately, everyone told her that Fitz spent a lot of time down in the basement, down in Ward's cell. They told her that he seemed to be drawn there, drawn to the man who had permanently damaged his brain. He wasn't allowed there alone after he had almost killed Ward one time, Skye told her, much to her horror. Triplett always accompanied him now.
Her heart started pounding, so frantically that it almost hurt, as she neared the door that led to Ward's prison, but she couldn't stop now.
She pushed the door open, preparing herself for the worst.
Nothing could have prepared her for the emotions that hit her at the sight of him.
The prison walls were invisible, so she could get a clear look at him. He was unshaven and dressed in all black, and his face seemed so much...older.
It was his eyes, though, his eyes as he saw her, that provided the most pain. They softened at the sight of her, and for a brief second, she was able to glimpse the anguish that he usually hid.
"Jemma," he breathed her name, just like he had so many times before. It was like a physical blow to the face.
She ignored him just like she ignored the tears pooling in her eyes. "Fitz," she forced out, turning her back to the prisoner and facing her best friend, sitting on the ground with his gaze unfocused. "How are you?"
Fitz didn't reply, didn't even look at her.
"He does that," Triplett explained quietly from his position standing next to Fitz.
With a quick glance at Ward behind her, Jemma asked, "Can we go somewhere else?" A tear escaped from her eye and slid down her cheek.
"Of course," Trip agreed. To Fitz, he added, "Come on, man. It's time to go."
Fitz obeyed silently, standing and walking to the door without waiting for Jemma or Trip.
"Is he-?"
"He's getting better," Trip reassured her, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders. "How about you?"
She muttered something inane, but her focus wasn't on the conversation. Ward's eyes haunted her. The last time he had looked at her like that was after she had jumped off the plane…
…
Jemma sat straight up in bed, her breathing ragged and her skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat.
It was the nightmares. Falling, always falling. But in her dreams, Ward was never there to catch her. No, she just fell for eternity, terrified and in pain, with never any respite. Never any hope.
Taking a couple deep breaths to try and calm her rapid heartbeat, Jemma pushed her sweaty hair out of her face with her palms and sat there for a moment, waiting for the terror to subside.
It didn't.
Finally, she decided that she would go to the kitchen and get some warm milk or something else relaxing, something that would help her escape the demonic grip of the nightmares.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, padding over to the door and opening it.
"Couldn't sleep?"
Jemma threw her hands in front of her mouth, muffling her involuntary scream at the sound of Ward's voice coming from below her.
"Sorry," the man chuckled softly. "I didn't mean to scare you." Looking down, she saw that he was leaning against the wall against her door, still fully dressed.
"What are you doing here?" she whispered, confused.
He patted the floor next to him and she obediently sat down, her curiosity driving away some of the residual fear from the dreams. "I remember the first time I almost died," he started quietly, not looking at her. "It changes you."
Biting her lip, Jemma nodded. She certainly felt different than she had before.
Ward shifted so that he was facing her. In his eyes, she saw more depth there than he usually let show. Concern, pain, a tinge of softness. "And the nightmares take a long time to go away. Some never do."
Swallowing, Jemma asked, "What do you do? When they won't leave you alone?"
To her surprise, Ward lifted his arm and settled it around her shoulders, pulling her against his strength. "I cope."
"Sound lonely," she whispered, breathing in his masculine scent. It was soothing and more than slightly intoxicating.
"I cope," he repeated, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on her arm. "I'm used to it. Now," he ordered, "relax."
They sat there in silence, Jemma soaking up the comfort he exuded and allowing his presence to drive away the terror and the nightmares.
She didn't know when she fell asleep, but she woke up the next morning in her bed, covered by her blankets.
It almost felt like a dream, like Ward was never there.
But it had been better than any dream could have been.
…
"Jemma? Jemma, are you okay?" The sound of Triplett's concerned voice broke into her thoughts.
"Oh, yes. Fine," she hastily reassured him. The arm around her shoulders, meant to be comforting, felt too much like the time Ward had comforted her. It felt controlling. "I just...I just need some time alone with Fitz.
"Of course." She winced as she saw the disappointment clear in his eyes at her dismissal.
She felt terrible - Trip was a wonderful man.
He just reminded her too much of Ward, bringing up painful memories that she couldn't avoid remembering.
But how could she forget?
Please review and leave ideas for future chapters you would like to see!
