Please Don't Cry

Scott Lang/Jemma Simmons

BioAnt? AntNerd?

Theme song:

Guns 'n' Roses – Don't Cry

NO ANT-MAN SPOILERS. YOU'RE SAFE.

This takes place after Ant-Man, which I went to see yesterday. And I'm still smiling because it was, in two words, FUCKING WONDERFUL. While Age of Ultron pissed me off utterly and I left the cinema frowning and wanting to kill the scriptwriters and Joss Whedon for making such a horrible muck-up of it, I can't think of a single thing I'd want to change about Ant-Man. Except maybe more Anthony Mackie. And longer. I could have sat riveted to my chair for another hour. Go see it. You won't regret it.

"It's been months, Coulson." May came to stand beside him in the secure storage room, both of them looking at the Monolith as it suddenly swooshed down to oily black liquid again, washing against the reinforced glass case before just as suddenly reforming. "We have to accept it. Jemma's gone."

Phil looked haggard and drawn, as weary as when he'd been in the worst grip of his hypergraphia. "We have to keep trying, May," he said fiercely. "Simmons – she gave up so much. Suffered as much as any of us. She was half in love with Trip, she was trying to build something with Fitz – I can't just let it go."

"We won't let it go," another voice cut in, and they looked across the room at Tony Stark, who stood with Vision beside him, both of them tinkering with yet another scanner they'd built to try on the Monolith.

Phil had given in and made the call within two days of Jemma being sucked up by the Monolith. Stark had been here day and night ever since, other Avengers dropping by regularly. Wanda was the only one who had picked up anything at all; she swore Jemma was still alive in the stone, in a kind of stasis, but she couldn't do anything, couldn't reach her mentally.

Sam Wilson came in now, in deep conversation with Mack. He cut off when he saw Phil, came over and grabbed his arm. "Coulson. Listen – I might have a lead on someone else who could help."

"I'm listening," Phil said immediately.

"What do you know about a guy named Hank Pym?"

xoxoxoxoxoxox

"It's very risky," Hank said quietly as they stood in front of the case. "You might not be able to get back out."

"I know," Scott answered, glancing at his mentor/boss. Hope stood slightly to one side, arms crossed. She'd wanted to go in, but Hank had argued her down. Besides, they needed her suit. Scott was going to carry it in for Jemma, in the hope that he could find her.

"If I don't come out," Scott looked around the room, at the gathered group, "take care of Cassie for me?"

"She'll never want for anything," Tony promised. "I swear it. Whether you come back or not, Lang."

"We'll make sure she's safe," Coulson promised just as fervently. "Always."

They were all standing on a platform that Mack had built, suspended from the ceiling, well above the height the black wave could reach to. Scott took a deep breath, snapped his helmet shut, and jumped down to the floor. Walking across to the big case, he clicked open the row of beefed-up latches that Mack had installed, glanced up at Mack crouched on the roof of the case. He'd close it once Scott was gone.

"Good luck, man. Bring our girl home," Mack said quietly, and Scott nodded to him and swung the door open.

Nothing happened.

Scott reached out to touch the stone. Stepped up into the case and poked his fingers into one of the strange, square cavities. "How do I set it off?" he turned to look at Coulson, and the Monolith collapsed.

It was so fast. Three seconds, if that, Scott flailing as he was swept off his feet, and then he was gone and the Monolith was still again.

"Now what?" Hope broke the silence as Mack closed the door.

"Now, we wait," Hank said.

xoxoxoxoxoxox

Whatever Scott had expected to find 'inside' the stone, it hadn't been endless long, dark corridors. He jogged along swiftly, trying to go in a straight line, if he had to make a turning always choosing left, using a sharp tool to scratch tally marks into the stone floor at junctions. He'd been searching for a while when he heard a sound other than his own footsteps. He stopped abruptly, listening intently.

There it was again, a low, muffled sound. He turned his head, tuning it in, wishing he had the ants with him, but he hadn't wanted to bring them into a situation so totally unknown. Determining the direction, he set off jogging again, turned a corner – and saw her.

Dressed in a spotted blouse and slacks, she sat on the floor, back to the wall, knees drawn up to her chest, her face in her hands, sobbing in such abject misery that Scott's heart wrenched in his chest.

He pulled his helmet off – she was breathing okay, so he'd live – and hurried close, dropping to his knees before her.

"Hey, please don't cry. I've come to get you out."

Jemma's head snapped up, her eyes opening wide and her mouth too. She stared, utterly stunned, at the handsome dark-haired man kneeling in front of her wearing some kind of strange red, black and silver suit. "Y-y-you came," she sniffled, trying vainly to suppress her sobs.

"Yes, Coulson sent me – wait, what?" Scott blinked.

Jemma gave him a very watery smile. "I was wondering how long I'd have to wait for you. I feel like I've been here for days."

She certainly didn't look like she'd been trapped in here for three months, Scott realised. Time must be flowing differently inside here. He swallowed. Even tear-stained and blotchy, she was a very pretty girl indeed, with her wavy light brown hair and huge hazel eyes.

"While I'd really love to celebrate finding my soulmate," he said quietly, "our first priority has to be getting out of here. And I don't really know if we can, yet."

"You came in to look for me without knowing if you'd be able to get out?" Jemma said in disbelief. "But you don't even know me!"

When she put it that way, it sounded like the dumbest thing he'd ever done, even though there was some pretty stiff competition for that award. Scott smiled sheepishly. "I'm still glad I did, even if we don't get out."

"Oh God," Jemma let out a choked little laugh. "My soulmate's a superhero!"

Shrugging, he held out his hand to help her to her feet. "More like a micro-hero." She looked puzzled, and he grinned. "You'll see."

"I'm Jemma," she said shyly, as he helped her up.

"Scott. Scott Lang." He was tallish, close to the six foot mark, and had lovely light green eyes and an adorable little cleft in his chin. Jemma lost herself in his eyes for a moment.

She was really pretty, slim and dainty, soft hazel eyes and the cutest sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose. His eyes dropped to her mouth, pink and a little puffy and swollen after her tears, and he licked his lips and moved closer.

"This is probably a really bad time," Scott breathed against her mouth.

"Uh-huh," she reached up, unsure where she could put her hands safely on his suit, settled for pressing them against his chest lightly. "Don't care."

"'Kay then." His lips were warm and soft, gentle as they moved over hers, and Jemma sighed into his mouth and moved a little closer, feeling his arms come around her and hold her.

"Mm." Scott broke the kiss with a regretful sigh after a few moments. "Nice though it would be to stand her and do that forever, we need to try and get out of here."

"Right." Jemma tried to gather her scattered thoughts. "How are we going to do that? Nothing ever changes in here. I'm assuming the Monolith turned back to its liquid state at least once to suck you in, but I didn't see anything.

"Yeah," Scott nodded. "I daresay you'll be better able to understand the science than I did when Hank explains it to you, but basically, he did some scans and determined that the Monolith is composed of a substance formerly unknown on Earth. Its subatomic structure is fundamentally different to any known element."

Jemma was watching him with her clear eyes, and he found his mind wandering, thinking of how lovely she was, how clever, even as he tried to concentrate, to explain how the suits worked and how Hank had thought they could adjust their regulators and use the Pym Particles to escape the stone prison.

"Right," Jemma said with a nod finally. "I can see I'll have to ask Dr Pym some more questions. How fascinating. But – there's only the one suit. Isn't there?"

"Nope," he shrugged off the pack on his back. "I brought one for you too. It's Hope's – she's Hank's daughter – but it should fit you well enough. She's a bit taller but that won't make too much difference. Um, you'll need to take your clothes off, though."

Jemma arched her eyebrows at him and smirked, and Scott found himself chuckling. "Honestly! It won't fit over what you're wearing. I swear it's not just an excuse for me to see you undressed. Not that I don't want to see you undressed, but…"

"Oh, hush, you babbling idiot," she said in a fond tone and started to unbutton her blouse. Scott gulped, eyes riveted to the soft creamy flesh she revealed as the high collar opened – at the black words just above the top of her breasts.

"I'll expect a reveal in kind when we get out of here," Jemma told him, discarding the blouse a little sadly – it was one of her favourites – and unfastening her slacks.

"Arglfngnh," Scott said eloquently, as Jemma finished and stood before him in just a pretty satin bra and panties, navy with cream polka dots and just a little cream lace around the bra cups.

"I'm assuming I can keep my underwear on?" Jemma took the suit trousers from him and examined them before starting to pull them on.

I should have said no, Scott realised as she pulled the stiff pants up her slender legs. We might die and then I'll have missed my chance to see her naked. But then if they did get out and she found out he'd lied to her – no, probably a good thing he'd been unable to speak at that moment. Reaching out, he helped her with the stiff fastenings on the suit jacket, and if his fingers trembled a little as they brushed her soft skin – well, neither of them said anything, but Jemma stared up at him the whole while, her lips parted and soft.

He handed her the helmet, holding on when she took it from him. "One last kiss," he said quietly, and she reached up eagerly, her mouth sweet under his. Scott closed his eyes and savoured her for a long moment before pulling back and helping her put the helmet on. Putting his own on, leaving the faceplate open for the moment, he took her hand.

"Okay," he said, squeezing her fingers comfortingly. "The controls of your suit are slaved to mine. All you have to do is hold onto my hand, alright? Don't let go."

"I understand," Jemma said after a nervous swallow. She brought up her other hand and latched it onto his wrist. Scott smiled at her before snapping his faceplate on.

"I'm gonna get you home, Jemma," he promised, focussing on the need to get back. Putting his hand on the regulator at his belt, he tightened his hold on Jemma's hand – and ran straight at the wall in front of them. Jemma's shriek echoed in his ears as the universe twisted around them…

xoxoxoxoxoxox

"Open it!" Hank Pym yelled suddenly, and a monitor started to beep loudly.

Tony slammed on the button he'd put in to remotely operate the case's latches, and they popped open, the door swinging wide. At that moment Tony saw what Pym had seen, two tiny figures tumbling from one of the holes in the Monolith, getting rapidly bigger, until they were sprawling to the floor outside the case, wrapped in each other's arms.

Tony mashed his finger down on another button and a hydraulic arm pushed the case shut, the latches clicking again.

"Scott!" Hank climbed painfully down from the platform. "Are you all right? Dr Simmons?"

Scott snapped his faceplate up, grinning as he scrambled to his feet, stooping to help Jemma up and then pulling her close. The room was almost empty, he noticed vaguely, only Hank and Tony Stark in there, and there seemed to be even more machinery around. "How long was I gone?" he asked curiously.

"Almost two weeks," Hank nodded at his astonished expression. "How long did it feel like, inside?"

"An hour, maybe two?" Jemma had pulled her helmet off, dropped it to the floor and buried her face in Scott's chest, clinging to him. "Ah, and I found my soulmate," Scott grinned proudly.

Hank blinked, startled, and then a slow smile spread across his face. "I'm very glad for you, Scott. Congratulations."

Tony had already communicated the good news, and the door slid open a few moments later and what seemed to be half of SHIELD and most of the Avengers came running in, throwing themselves at the returned pair and hugging them enthusiastically.

Jemma's friend Fitz, the young Scottish engineer, was sobbing over her, Scott noticed. Coulson had told him that Fitz and Jemma had been making tentative steps towards a romantic relationship when she was captured by the Monolith. Feeling suddenly in the way, Scott tried to move backwards but Jemma reached out and grabbed his hand.

"My soulmate saved me," she said loudly, turning to look up at Scott, her eyes glowing with joy.

"Oh." Fitz pulled back, there was a sudden silence in the room. Mack put a steadying hand on Fitz's shoulder. "Oh – I see. Well." Fitz visibly squared his shoulders, and then he held out a hand to Scott, forcing a smile. "Thank you. Thank you so very much. It means more than you can ever know to have Jemma back with m–, with us."

Scott nodded, shaking Fitz's hand with an understanding smile in return. How terrible, to have your heart so publicly broken. The engineer was being very brave about it. Mack guided Fitz away gently, giving Scott a slight nod of acknowledgement.

Throughout all the tearful reunions and new introductions for Jemma, she never let go of Scott's hand, and he didn't try to pull away, a warm, comforting presence at her side. Telling Fitz like that had been terrible, but she couldn't let him hear it from anyone else, and she couldn't bear to be away from Scott for even a moment. Better to be honest, to let Fitz know quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid, though that was a poor analogy for a broken heart.

Turning to Scott in a quiet moment, she found his eyes trained on her, a serious look in their green depths. He knew, Jemma realised, knew that she and Fitz had been tentatively trying to build something between them.

"I know I hurt him," she said quietly, "and it tore my heart out, because he's my best friend. But – after only a few minutes with you, it's so obvious to me now that there was never that something, that spark, between me and Fitz."

Scott squeezed on her hand. "It's all right, Jemma. I get it." He really did. He'd thought he loved Maggie, loved her enough to marry her, to have a child with her – but it fell apart when she met her soulmate. Of course it did. He understood, now, the all-encompassing need to be with that one person, the other half of his soul. No woman before Jemma had mattered, none of them had truly counted. He stood staring into her eyes as slowly the world around them faded away until there was nothing but the two of them.

"Soulmates," Phil said in disgust as Jemma and the Ant-Man started kissing passionately in the middle of the crowd, utterly disregarding everyone else present.

Now, I have some excellent news (apart from the insane plot bunnies that have started breeding in my brain after watching Ant-Man). The lovely Vulpecula Night has started a Skye/Loki continuation! Check out It Is You – and yes, she has promised smut later ;)