From jemmamaximoff: "Revenge isn't justice."

I've had this scene in mind for quite a while now! I just hope it translated well onto paper (or the screen lol). Enjoy!

~Canon-divergent, 2x19 "The Dirty Half Dozen"~

"Jemma?" Fitz's voice trembled behind her, bouncing across the dark corridors behind him. "Put the gun down."

She didn't respond, just shifted her balance and cocked her gun so that it aimed at Ward's forehead. Her stance was rigid, legs locked and shoulders taut, but Fitz wasn't fooled by the gun shaking in her hands. Ward convulsed just inches away from her, twitching every time he attempted to move a muscle.

Every fiber of Jemma's being told her to pull the trigger, to end once and for all the trail of bodies Ward had left behind. Plan B had been lingering in her mind ever since she packed the splinter bomb in her sack along with the medical supplies needed to treat Mike and Lincoln. She was aware her throwing capabilities weren't the best so she turned to science, concocting a batch of a paralytic that could render a victim motionless in less than a minute. Ward may have been a skilled agent, observant and quick on his feet, but even he wasn't fast enough to react to the needle being thrust into his thigh.

The distance between the needle and his leg was negligible, Ward's eyes too focused on her own steadfast gaze to notice the syringe poised and ready behind her back. And she took advantage of the situation, sinking the needle into his skin and waited as the paralytic hit his bloodstream.

She had to admit, watching him suffer, groaning in frustration at his inability to move, was oddly satisfying. It was vengeance, yes, for all the pain Ward caused them, caused Fitz, in the past, but even though she was usually morally steered in the right direction…this felt right. Justified, in a way.

"I can't let him get away, Fitz." Jemma refused to look back at him, to take her eyes off of the man who had almost stolen everything from her. "You of all people should understand that."

"I do understand, Jemma," Fitz replied gently. "I do. But killing him will not heal my hypoxia like it never happened. Killing him won't change what he did in the past. Revenge isn't justice."

"But neither will letting him live!" she retaliated. Feeling the anger seep through her like a tidal wave, she took in a deep breath, her hold on the gun almost slipping as she did so. "And I made a promise to myself. A promise I intend to keep."

Jemma steadied her hands, her thumb hovering just inches above the trigger, determined to hold her ground. "As much as we hate it, we need his help, "Fitz continued, and his voice took on a pleading tone. "Coulson would not be happy if he found out you shot our informant."

She saw where he was going, of course– how many times had Coulson and May preached to them that as agents, emotion shouldn't cloud their judgment, that the safety of both their team and civilians always came first? But she was protecting her team. Protecting them from this duplicitous traitor in their midst.

"I'm sure he could find another one," Jemma snapped, and she winced at the harshness (and absurdity) of her words. Not many people out there could have possibly been in contact with HYDRA, SHIELD, and the Inhumans like Ward had. As much as she hated to admit it, Ward was their only hope of gathering Hydra intel on the Inhumans.

But he was a threat. He was dangerous. He couldn't be trusted. He lied to all of them multiple times, tricked them with friendly comradery and pitiful stories about his abusive childhood, only to throw all of that away to follow John Garrett. He could easily kill all of them if he changed his mind about their temporary alliance. From the moment she made her promise to kill him, after meticulously weighing the pros and cons of the situation currently presented to them, her decision was final, no matter what the lingering cost may be.

As unwavering as her stance appeared to be, she was unprepared for the warm hand that Fitz placed on her shoulder. "I tried to deprive Ward of oxygen while he was in his cell," Fitz said softly. Muffled groans from Ward appeared to justify his statement. "And I tried to attack him on the quinjet when we first picked him up. I know what it feels like to hate." His grip tightened slightly, enough for her to notice. "But it didn't make me feel any better, Jemma. If you're looking for closure, this isn't the way to obtain it."

Jemma glanced down at Ward, still jerking at her feet, and then focused on her gun. "Okay," she conceded reluctantly. "I understand. But you're going to have to pry this out of my hands first. I don't trust myself not to pull the trigger."

Her stance relaxed as Fitz maneuvered cautiously around her, using his good hand to pluck the gun out of her curled fingers. "We have to get going," he said, pocketing the gun after putting on the safety. "Mike and Lincoln both need to be evacuated and treated immediately for their injuries."

Despite his rush, Jemma thrust a finger in his face, stopping him in his tracks. "One second." She turned her attention to Ward, crouching down so that his wide eyes met her scowl. "The paralytic will wear off in ten minutes. After the effects have exited your bloodstream and the mission is complete, you will not speak about what just transpired. In exchange for your silence, I will not attempt to harm you unless you threaten the life of one of our own."

She glanced back briefly at Fitz, who was eyeing her every move intensely, before finishing her speech. "And if you dare betray us again, or hurt someone I care about, that we care about…" Leering forward suddenly, she relished in the fear dancing in Ward's eyes. "I will kill you. And I won't regret it one bit."

Satisfied, Jemma straightened and joined Fitz near the doorway when she was confident Ward still could not move. "Alright, I'm ready now."

She let Fitz pull her along as they made their way through the dark, towards the rendezvous point Coulson had designated upon invading the compound. With only the beam of Fitz's flashlight to guide them, she held onto his hand tightly. "Wait…" Fitz stopped abruptly, causing Jemma to almost crash into him. "Wasn't Bakshi supposed to be with Ward? Where is he?"

He glanced back at her for reassurance, to which she responded with a solemn nod. "Don't worry. I took care of him already."

Fitz opened his mouth, most likely to try and delve deeper into the details of Bakshi's disappearance, but Jemma strode past him before he could ask, melting into the darkness.

I currently have 7 more requests in my queue for FitzSimmons drabbles! Again, don't know when I'll write/post them , but it'll be a surprise when I do ;)