Agent Triplett came in and found Jemma and Sharon holding hands, crying, and sharing a soaked handkerchief. He held out a package of Kleenex to Sharon, but was at a loss for how to comfort either woman. He tried to change the subject. "I put your suitcase in the guest quarters, Sharon, and I can show you to your room whenever you're ready. No rush, of course, you should speak to the doctors and all first, but I'm here when you want me." Sharon nodded, but didn't look up or stop crying.
Trip looked from one sobbing woman to another. Where's my mother when you need her. I'm no expert on comforting crying women! "Um…" he started uncertainly, "Um, does anyone want a drink? Or something to eat? Jemma, you must be starving."
Sharon did look up at that statement. "She hasn't been eating?" she asked sharply.
"I'm fine, I honestly am," Jemma stammered, "I just haven't been hungry very much…"
Triplett decided now was definitely an OK time to interrupt a lady. "She's barely eaten, slept, or showered since we got to this base, Sharon. She won't leave Fitz's side and there's no food allowed in here. I had to carry her to her bed two nights ago and block the door to get her to eat a little breakfast before she rushed back here."
Years earlier, before she'd been a mum, before she had even met Leo's father, Sharon had trained as an ambulance technician. Her teacher had proposed a hypothetical situation: If you're called to a home where a teenage mother has just snapped and shaken her infant, how many patients do you have? The answer, of course, was "two," because the mother was having a behavioral emergency, even if the infant was the one with visible trauma.
Use your head, Sharon. How many patients do you have? "I've heard enough. Jemma, dinner, bath, bed, this instant, no arguments."
"Sharon, there's no need—"
"Agent Triplett will help you to the kitchen, won't he? No use fainting on the way. And he's going to make sure you get some protein in you before he draws a bath, then he'll wait and help you get into bed. Isn't that right, Antoine?"
Trip didn't usually take orders from civilians, but he immediately reached for Jemma's arm to help her up. "Yes, ma'am, I'll even sit with her until she's asleep if she'll let me."
"Thank you, young man," Sharon turned her attention to Jemma, still feebly trying to protest. "Now, do be sensible, dearie. You're no good to Leo if you make yourself sick and get banned from the ward, are you? If you get a nice meal and a hot bath and some sleep, you'll be thinking much more clearly."
Jemma started to say, "But I have to be here when he wakes up!"
Sharon cut her off, "I'm here, Jemma! His own mother isn't going to watch him any less carefully than you would do! Go with Antoine, let him take care of you. I promise we'll wake you if any of these monitors so much as beeps out of tune!"
Jemma looked like she wanted to say more, but the fight had clearly left her. Antoine winked and mouthed "thank you" to Sharon as he half-led, half-carried her from the room.