Simmons eyed his arm, both sympathetic and chiding but didn't comment on it as Fitz joined her and the small group of biologists.
"Hey," he greeted, unable to keep down the grin that spread across face, he was glad to see her. Their reunion changed him inside, felt like Nickel coming together with Chromium to make stainless steel, alloying so he became a stronger, better version of himself. A braver one too.
He looked her over quickly, checking up on her. She seemed worn down already, her usually neat ponytail beginning to loosen, releasing a few strands of her hair so the ones which hadn't been messily tucked behinds her ears hung at the sides of her face. She was pale and it was visible in her expression and her rigid posture that she was coiled tighter than a spring, but she was focused and sharp, he could see it in her eyes, and he was proud of her.
"Hey," she replied, allowing a quick, fond smile to show she was happy to see him too before returning her attention to the thing on the table, stonely serious, processing what was in front of her like only she could.
The thing on the table, which Simmons and the other biologists were examining intently, was an arm, detached from it's body and still oozing strangely purplish-coloured blood at one end, much to his disgust. Living things were messy, constantly changing and springing out new, sometimes revolting, surprises every so often. He much prefered his neat, clean, ordered world of metal and circuits. It smelled far better too.
Simmons lived in another world though, the icky, slimy, squishy one, and she was his partner so sometimes Fitz got his hands dirty. Besides the world was ending, potentially, it wasn't really the time to be squeamish.
"What's do you need me for?" he inquired, jumping in, ready to help as he took his place beside her.
"We need you to identify the mechanical constituents," she explained, handing him a pair of pale blue gloves.
"What the hell are these things?" he muttered, slipping his hand into them and taking in the gruesomely fused flesh. How had they managed to make metal and circuits gross?
"They're Chitauri," one of the other scientists, agent Yang he saw from the helpful ID tag, informed them grimly, glancing at the information bulletin.
The bloodthirsty demons pouring out of hell had been identified. Good, they were one step closer to sending them back.
"Oh no," Simmons breathed, her coils were tightening, he could see it on her face, the way the muscles around her jaw stiffened.
"What?" Fitz asked, trying not to let his voice squeak too much, reacting to his friend's fear.
"They've been here before," Simmons explained. "We learned about it in History of SHIELD," she frowned at him but didn't stop to scold him for not paying attention in class. It hadn't been his fault, the way professor Vaughn droned on he was lucky he hadn't failed of boredom and besides Fitz was sure the man hated him (the only reason he'd shown up to class at all was the mandatory attendance and the fact that he'd have to hear a good long lecture from Simmons if he didn't). "They were here during World War I, though, of course, no one knew about them back then."
"They sure do now," agent Yang commented darkly. "I don't see how we're going to cover this one up."
"If we survive it," agent Karev added and everyone was silent for a few seconds.
The top of Simmons' palm pressed against Fitz's beneath the desk and he rubbed little circles on it softly with his, trying to assure her that it was going to be OK. Maybe he wasn't the strongest person in the world (or even in the room) but he was clever and he was stubborn as a dandelion and he would never, never ever, let anything happen to her.
She smiled faintly and straightened her fingers so that they brushed his lightly, then took a breath, steadied, and continued.
"They wanted to exterminate us then, all of us, they called themselves the immune system of the universe," she told them quietly, though he still heard the repugnance in her voice at the alien's mission statement.
"They sound like Daleks," Fitz commented.
"Like what?" Agent Grey asked.
"It's science fiction," "They're from Doctor Who," they answered.
"I got that reference," agent Yang piped up across from them. "They're exactly like that, I remember the class on them."
"Well we'd better stop them then," agent Grey said determinedly and the others nodded in agreement.
The group set to work, Fitz co-ordinating his efforts with the small team of biologists so that they could create an idea of how the Chitauri's systems interacted with the machine pieces fused into their skin.
"It's passing information," he realized.
"From the Chitauri through the wires and into the air," Simmons continued, in awe despite her repulsion for the aliens.
"We need a piece of their tech," Fitz announced.
"Like what?" Agent Grey asked, catching up with them.
"I'll call down for something," Agent Karev offered, returning to the phone.
"Maybe ask for one of the staffs, something as whole as possible," Fitz requested.
"You want to see if stimulating the nerve cells will send a signal out to it through the wires," Simmons read his mind and they beamed at each other, forgetting for an instant, what was going on not so far away from them, forgetting that this could be end, or at least the beginning of it.
The monitor beeped, a sharp reminder, and they all turned their eyes on it, Fitz and Simmons spinning around for a view.
Displayed on the screen was the most terrifying thing any of them had seen yet. A grey, metal monster as large as an airplane carrier (the surrounding buildings made the awesome scale of it frighteningly clear) was worming its way out of the portal. Its massive body took up most of the space and was covered with shining plates like an ancient crustacean. Giant fins lined the long, thick body, grey turtle flippers arranged like the legs of an insect, paddling it through the air.
"B-but, it can't be... how is it... I don't-," agent Grey stuttered squeakily.
'How is it flying?' Fitz wondered, stunned into silence. 'It doesn't seem like it should be able to.'
He felt Simmons' warm arm against his own again, a plucked guitar string, taught and quivering. Her hand wrapped loosely around his wrist, abandoning her earlier subtlety, fingers searching without her gaze leaving the screen and he pulled up his own hand to take hers. She gripped it tightly, eyes wide and filled with horror.
There were Chitauri jumping out of the monster, using it as a living ship, filling the city with countless more soldiers while it roared from a gaping mouth large enough to swallow a bus.
"Fitz how is it flying?" She whispered shakily.
"I don't know," he admitted, quietly, only for her.
"Agent Broca, agent Wernicke," agent Yang called sharply to the pair from communications. "What are we looking at?"
"I don't... it's," agent Broca faltered.
"It isn't in the database," agent Wernicke told them. "They didn't bring those last time they were here."
Another one slithered out of the portal and someone screamed..
"Oh my God," agent Karev breathed.
"How many of those do they have?" Someone exclaimed.
"There's another one!" agent Grey told them, panicked and pointing to the monitor.
"Fitz," Simmons whispered anxiously.
They exchanged a glance. Her eyes were bright, scared, and she bit her lip, holding back her tears, trying not to show how distressed she was.
"I won't let anything happen to you," he vowed softly, surprising himself. He hadn't expected the words to come out, it happened without him thinking it over first. Any other time, he might have been embarrassed by how much they revealed the true depth of his feelings for her. Another time, he might have been afraid of how much she meant to him, how much he'd come to need her. That fear seemed silly now though, a tiny thing in comparison to what was happening. He meant what he'd said, Simmons knew he meant it and she wasn't uncomfortable or scared by it.
She was smiling at him, encouraged and trusting. They were in a bubble universe, clear walls muffling the world outside and protecting them from the storm raining chaos and panic around them, slowing time and allowing them a moment to breathe while they took courage from each other.
"I know," she answered, voice low and warm. "But that's not the only thing I'm afraid of." She glanced at the monitor, people hiding in buildings, behind cars, to avoid the deadly beams of light which had set the city aflame, and the bubble burst, letting in the wind and the noise.
Synchronously, they gave each other's hands another squeeze then let go and turned back to the arm.
"We'll need DeeDee," Fitz said briskly.
"And something to stimulate the muscles," Simmons added. "Do you have anything we can use to shock them?" She asked the rest of the team.
"We have a MENS unit we use in neuron testing sometimes," agent Yang told them, racing to retrieve it.
One of the staffs had been brought up and they placed it in a tough, plastic containment box (Fitz had insisted upon it, he'd learned from his previous mistakes) and ensured no one was in the line of fire before beginning.
They hooked the leads onto the arm, stimulating different portions of it. Finally, after several attempts, they shot a jolt into the arm near the wrist and the staff sent out a blue beam which almost seared through the containment box, warping the plastic and creating a blackened, blurry circle.
"So that's how it's activated," Fitz declared seriously.
"The signal must pass from the nerves into the wiring," Simmons added purposefully.
"Now let's figure out how to block it," Fitz finished and, side by side, the set to work puzzling it out. They were FitzSimmons once again and, even if they were facing the end of the world, they could be brave because at least they were going to face it together.
/-/-/
Agents Broca and Wernicke are named after the two parts of the brain associated with speech, because they are from communications :P.
The thing with the dandelion comes from a summer of weeding. Those things are stubborn :O.
The Fringe reference is the bubble universe. In the series there is an episode in which they hide a special observer named Michael in a bubble universe, where time passes more slowly, to keep him safe.
A MENS unit is a device used to electically stimulate nerve cells for medical purposes. I don't know much about the machine itself beyond that.