Prompt from katiebug0410 (sentence meme): "I'm dying."
I feel really bad that it took me 2-3 weeks to get to this one, but when someone sends me a request I never forget to write it, no matter how long it takes me to finish it!
~Set sometime during the first half of season 2~
"Turbo! C'mon man, that was such a low blow!"
"Well, that's what happens w-when you stand in the t-trajectory of my gun!"
"Give the kid a break, Mack," Hunter drawls, and Jemma can hear a slew of gun shots sounding from the living room as she finishes up her work in the lab. "He's just getting into the swing of things."
She cringes at the sound of the fake automatic weapons going off on the TV, but she reminds herself that it's all fake, just a testosterone outlet for the guys after a hard day of work. Growing up with two younger cousins, she has never been a fan of video games, but she's glad that the guys have finally earned a bit of downtime, especially Fitz. He needs friends to break the ice that has formed between the two of them. Brick by brick, the wall of hurt and betrayal that still stands so obviously in front of them is slowly crumbling down, but their relationship still isn't the same. It's still too reserved; they're too hesitant to hash things out with each other and that bugs Jemma more than anything.
"Well, he's catching on pretty fast," Mack chuckles, causing Jemma to smile. Of course Fitz would still learn new skills and concepts quickly, even after his brain injury. Considering Fitz's brilliance that she has gotten to witness countless times over the years, this didn't surprise her in the least.
"We'll see about that." Fitz brushes it off modestly, and the chatter settles down for a while. Realizing how distracted her eavesdropping has made her, Jemma shakes her head violently in an attempt to re-focus and resumes sorting out the blood samples before putting them away.
It is only when she hears a loud yelp from the other room that she almost drops the samples as her hand reaches for the refrigerator handle. "Now look at what you've done, Mack! I'm d-dying!"
Mack's response is barely audible among the unexpected wave of nausea that takes over Jemma's body. She grasps onto the door handle, suddenly weak at the knees, and shoves the container onto the top shelf before the suction pulls the door shut. It's a reasonable exclamation, given that death was a common theme in video games, but she never expected to act this strongly to something so trivial.
She realizes that it's not the subject of death that startles her as much as who is being killed off in the video game. Unable to rest her forehead on her gloved hands possibly covered in hazardous biological substances, she hangs her head, her chin almost touching her chest. Her heart leaps into her throat as an image of Fitz giving her the oxygen at the bottom of the med pod races from the recesses of her mind into her consciousness. She keeps telling him not to do it, "No I'm not leaving you here, that's ridiculous!", but suddenly he's shoving the mask into her shaking hands and then she awakes to see his comatose form lying in a hospital bed.
"You're more than that, too." That's what I should've told him. I should've told him that a long time ago. Why had I never thought of that before?
It takes her a few seconds for her to snap out of her momentary flashback and she shakes off the memory, letting it slide like a water off a duck's back. Nothing could be done to change what Fitz had done for her. He had saved her life and all she was able to do was bring a shell of himself up to the ocean's surface. How could she ever forgive herself for that?
Fifteen minutes later, after she cleans up the lab, Jemma is in the kitchen making tea. She always uses tea to calm her nerves during a stressful situation and today seems as good as any other day to make it, especially after she noticed how high-strung she has become after Fitz's exclamation. Out of habit, she heats up enough water for two cups of tea and sets out a packet of tea for each mug: vanilla chamomile for her and earl grey for Fitz. Sure, he may be busy having guy time with Mack and Hunter, but never has there been a time where he has refused a mug of tea from her and hopefully their fighting won't break that consistency.
After adding a splash of milk and two teaspoons of sugar, just the way Fitz likes it, she pads towards the living room, stopping briefly at the entrance to steady the SHIELD Academy mugs, which are steaming and filled to the brim with tea. It appears that the game has finished and Mack and Hunter are joking around with each other, exchanging playful punches and finger flicks to the ears (How childish, she laughs internally) while Fitz leans back on the couch and watches the whole spectacle with a fascinated amusement.
Unsure if she should disturb their banter, Jemma knocks on the open door gently. "Mind if I come in?"
"Yeah, no problem, we just finished." Mack walks behind the couch to give Fitz a clap on the shoulder. "This guy is a beast with a pistol, by the way. Never missed a single target!"
Jemma bristles at the mere thought of Fitz purposefully using a gun (of course he wouldn't in real life; he always insisted on using ICERs, only accepting a gun filled with bullets when it was forced into his hands), but she manages a tight-lipped smile. "I wouldn't expect anything less."
"Did you two reserve the TV next or something?" Hunter's eyes twinkle at her as he takes a swig of his beer.
Jemma gives him a look. "No. But…" She glances at Fitz hesitantly. "If you don't mind sharing it, Fitz…I would be happy to join you."
Seriously Jemma? That was way too formal. You can do better than that.
"Um…" A mix of surprise and confusion clouds Fitz's face. "Yeah, sure, that would be nice."
He scoots over and awkwardly pats a cushion next to him while Mack ushers Hunter out of the room. "So…you sounded like you were having a good time," Jemma says, trying to sound cheery as she places the mugs down on the coffee table.
"Yeah, it was…it was fun." He blushes and looks down at his hands fidgeting in his lap. "I haven't really, er…'interacted' with anyone like that i-in a while."
"Ever since-?"
"Yeah," he finishes for her, not even daring to bring the subject up again.
"I'm glad."
They sit there for a minute in silence, making Jemma grow even more restless. "Thanks for the tea," Fitz finally says, moving to pick up the still-steaming mug. "I should've, er- said that earlier."
Well, at least that was something. "You're very welcome," she replies, wrapping her palms tightly around her own mug.
The tea doesn't even have a chance to pass his lips before Jemma's words come tumbling out of her mouth in a rush. "Why do you like playing such a violent video game?"
His eyebrows crinkle a bit in confusion and he finishes his sip before responding. "It helps me with my dexterity." He wiggles the fingers of his bad hand subconsciously. "And it helps me connect…"
"-with the other guys."
"Yeah, that."
Fitz casts a frown at Jemma's troubled expression and sits his mug back down on the table. "What's wrong?" he asks, tilting his head slightly to the side.
"I-um…" Oh god, this is embarrassing. "I just heard you say you were dying and I know it's just a stupid video game and I don't know why, but it made me think of-"
She squeezes her eyes shut and attempts to hide her face behind her mug, but it doesn't stop Fitz from understanding her thoughts. "I'm okay, Jemma. Really. I'm safe here, hanging with the other agents, working in the lab with you…" Her eyes widen as Fitz places a hand on her knee. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."
Jemma takes in a shallow breath and for some reason she can't tear her gaze off of his hand. Of course he is (or was) affectionate with her when she was upset, but this is the first time since she returned from Hydra that he's treating her like a friend, not like an enemy. "Of course. How silly of me to think of that."
"It's not silly. It's…to be expected."
And that's all he says as he sinks into the couch and turns on the most recent episode of Dr. Who. Reassured by his gesture, Jemma allows herself to scoot closer to him and is relieved when he doesn't react to her proximity. As hours pass by, she even manages to lean his head on his shoulder, lolling off to sleep as he mindlessly strokes her hair, eventually letting his fingers slide down the strands to splay across her shoulder blade.
There are still words that need to be said and misunderstandings that yearn to be cleared, but for now this is good. It's progress. And that's all Fitz and Jemma need to understand as they accept their first stalemate and enjoy their first moment of peace in months with each other.
I know it takes me forever to get to them sometimes, but I'm always open for FitzSimmons requests if anyone ever wants me to write one! :)