Jemma is torn between weeping in relief and stubbornly putting her foot down while refusing to move when Phil comes to relieve her of her post. As exhausted as she is, she immediately begins throwing up excuses as to why she can't leave Skye's side—just because it looks like the drug had saved her didn't mean they were out of the woods yet. But Phil won't have any of it.
"You said it yourself, she's stabilizing and recovering," Phil says. "You've done all the heavy lifting, you got her through the worst of it: it's time to let some of us take over for a bit."
"But sir, if something should happen—"
"Then I'll page you," Phil cuts her off. "You're dead on your feet and with good reason. The pressure and responsibility I put on your shoulders was enormous. It's more than I should have had to ask of you."
Jemma's posture straightens at that as she shrugs off some of her fatigue in some vague effort to show him that she could take it, that she had taken it.
"Sir, I wouldn't have had it any other way," she says, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Skye is a member of our team. And our friend. Giving anything less than 100% of my effort would have been unthinkable."
At that, he graces her with a smile, reaching out to pat her shoulder in a fond, fatherly way. She's exhausted, wrung out physically and emotionally, so she doesn't really believe he'll think less of her when she squeezes her eyes shut as they begin to sting and she exhales a shaky breath. Because it isn't until right this very moment that the enormity of the situation really, truly hits her. The things she'd done, the part she'd played in keeping Skye alive only now begins to sink in.
Remembering her late night encounter months prior, she's surprised when she's pulled into a hug. Phil doesn't stiffen up or flinch away from the contact as he had when she'd hugged him—but perhaps this is because he's the one who initiated the contact. Whatever the case, she sags against him in relief, as the great weight he'd placed on her shoulders is suddenly lifted.
"I'm proud of you," he tells her. "You saved her life, you know."
Jemma pulls back, wiping at her eyes and shaking her head. "You did just as much."
He's still smiling but it's transformed into something tight and controlled. What she's just said has struck a nerve, she can tell. There's something troubled in his posture, as much as he tries to hide it from her. But as trying as this has been on all of them, she figures it's not her place to pry. She doesn't have the energy to, anyhow.
"Like I said, you did all the heavy lifting," he reminds her. "Now, please, go get some rest. I can watch her."
Jemma hesitates all the same. "You'll call for me if anything's wrong."
"The second I think something's wrong, I'll call you," he assures her. He studies her briefly before saying, "Will you be alright walking back to your bunk?"
She realizes he's essentially checking to make sure she won't pass out in the halls due to exhaustion and allays his fears with a simple, "I believe I can manage, sir."
Once she's convinced him of this, she leaves Phil alone with Skye, intent on getting the sleep she's missed out on over the past few days. It's not terribly late at night, but the Bus is eerily quiet all the same. The last few days have taken a tremendous toll on all of them, in both individual and collective ways, so it's no surprise that they all need their own time to rest and reflect. At the very least, they can breathe a sigh of relief now that Quinn has been taken off their hands and will not be seeing the light of day for a long, long time.
As she slides the door to her bunk closed and sinks gratefully onto her bed, her eye catches the flashing notification light on her cell phone. She somehow manages to summon the will to slip out of her clothes and into a fresh pair of pajamas before flopping onto her side and pressing her face to her pillow. She's tempted—more than tempted, really—to just be done with it all and enjoy herself a well-deserved nap, but the blinking notification light on her phone won't afford her that. Reaching out, she grapples blindly for the phone, knowing that the sooner she puts her mind at ease by relieving herself of any further duties, the sooner she can sleep.
One missed call.
One new voicemail.
Sighing softly, she presses the phone to her ear.
"Jemma, it's me. I, uh… look, I'll get right to the point: I heard about Skye. And I'm sorry. There's not much I can say right now that isn't going to sound like absolute horse shit to you, so I just want you to know that I'm here in whatever capacity you need me to be. If you need space or you need to talk or anything… I'm here. I'll be here. So just… let me know. Whenever. Okay? I'll talk to you soon. Bye."
Of course the message is from before their off-the-books mission; Jasper couldn't have known about that. But after the last few days, hearing his voice is every bit as welcoming as the pillow she's lying on. As much as she'd like to speak to him, she knows consciousness will not be working in her favor for much longer and so she opts to send a quick text for the time being.
› Skye pulled thru. Need to sleep. Ttyl.
It's shorter than she'd like and she's sure he'll have more than his fair share of questions due to her brevity, but seeing as she's hardly hit the send button before her eyes slip shut, she doesn't suppose it will hurt.
If Jemma had expected to wake feeling refreshed, perhaps it would have been best to guess that she was expecting too much. When she pries her eyes open, with some difficulty, her body feels as though it's made out of lead. There's a dull pounding in her head that tells her she hasn't had enough sleep and should likely find some aspirin and a tall glass of water. Something had woken her up, then.
As she forces herself to sit up, wishing all the while that she could just go back to sleep, she realizes what had woken her in the first place had been the Bus landing. Deciding that she may as well check on Skye while she's awake, she steps into her shoes and runs her fingers through her hair in an attempt to make it look at least somewhat presentable. It's as she's doing this that there's a knock at her door. Smoothing out the wrinkles in her clothes as best she's able, she calls for whoever's on the other side to come in. Leo pokes his curly head in, holding a glass of water and two aspirin aloft as he slips inside.
"Had a hunch you might be needing these," he says.
"Thank goodness for your hunches," she answers gratefully, accepting both. After she's swallowed the pills and drained half the glass, she asks, "We've landed, then?"
Leo nods. "Picking up some supplies for Skye."
Jemma frowns at that. "Wouldn't it have been better to have just gone straight back to hospital?"
"Agent Coulson seems to think it would be better if Skye recovered here. With us," Leo says, looking somewhat uncomfortable at the admission. "I told him you might disagree."
"'Might' is an understatement, Fitz," Jemma says, shaking her head. "I'd like to speak with him regarding this. Is he about?"
"He's with Skye," Leo answers. "Hasn't left since you went for a bit of a lie-down."
"How is she?" Jemma asks as they begin moving together in that direction.
"She's doing well," Leo answers, wearing a look of pleasant surprise. "I don't know what that GH-325 was, but whatever it was… it's worked. Her vitals have been steadily improving over the past several hours. It's amazing."
"I can hardly believe it either," Jemma admits. "I'm not one to go around crying miracle, but…"
"Certainly seems fitting, doesn't it?" Leo finishes.
A drug capable of curing mortal wounds and reviving the dead? Fitting in the extreme. Immediately her mind starts whirring at the possibilities. Phil had been dead for five days, according to his file, before being resurrected. Skye's wounds should have killed her—were in fact killing her—and this drug managed to save her from that fate. Not only that, she seems to be recovering at an unheard of rate. If Phil is anything to judge by, this drug could mean she'll recover with hardly any trace of what had been done to her.
But then… Phil hadn't wanted them to administer it to her. At the last second, he'd run in crying out for them not to. She remembers that now. In all the excitement of the day, she'd forgotten, but she remembers now. Why was that? Why had he so suddenly changed his mind? This and a hundred other questions bounce through her tired mind and she shelves them, waiting for a better time to explore each of them.
"I'll leave you to it then?" Leo questions as they arrive at their destination. "I promised Ward I'd help him load the supplies."
"Yes, alright," Jemma says, touching a hand to his arm affectionately. "I'll catch up with you later."
Leo nods, ducking out as Jemma makes her way into the pod. Phil turns in his seat, his eyes telling her he's surprised to see her. Skye doesn't wake, which is probably for the best; this is a conversation Jemma would rather keep between herself and Phil for the moment. Pumping the lever of the hand sanitizer dispenser at the door twice, she walks in and offers the older agent a clinical smile, rubbing her hands until the sanitizer has dissolved.
"I'd thought you'd want to sleep a little longer," Phil says quietly. "Are you sure you rested enough?"
"Well, what with the Bus landing, couldn't very well sleep through it, could I?" Jemma answers just as quietly. She clasps her hands in front of her, facing him as he sits expectantly before her. "I understand that you haven't made plans to make a return trip to our medical facilities."
Phil opens his mouth to respond, seems to think better of it and instead lets out a heavy sigh. "Let's talk about this. Have a seat, please."
"I'd prefer to stand, if you don't mind, sir," Jemma says.
"Fair enough," Phil says. "I take it Fitz was the one who told you that I preferred that Skye recover here with us?"
Jemma feels herself deflate somewhat. She'd been so confident coming in here, but she has no desire to see Leo get in trouble for simply talking this over with her. The thing is, she hasn't exactly gotten any better at lying on the spot. Phil seems to read this in her indecisive silence and holds his hands up peaceably.
"It's alright; I already know. No one's in trouble," he assures her. "Jemma, I have no plans to keep Skye from whatever medical attention she needs, please understand that. If you think that what's best for her is to take her to the nearest medical facility, then I'll have May fire up the plane right now, no questions asked."
Jemma pauses. She mulls over everything that's happened in the past few days, mulls over Skye's condition. As she thinks, she begins checking the other woman's vitals. Phil rises from his seat, clearing the space for her. As Jemma looks, she finds that Skye appears to be doing even better than she had before she'd had her little nap.
"In my opinion, sir, whatever GH-325 was, it's done enough so that Skye no longer need be categorized as being in critical condition," Jemma says slowly. "At this point in time, given her rapid rate of recovery and the resources available to us, if you would prefer that she remain here under my care, then it could be done. That being said… I would feel more comfortable if Skye was at least examined by a proper physician first."
Phil stands against the wall, arms folded over his chest as he nods thoughtfully. "If you think it's in her best interest, then it'll be done."
Jemma takes a step towards him. "Before we do anything, perhaps you could explain your reluctance in this matter to me."
"As I said, I would never do anything to deprive Skye of the care she needs. And the same goes for everyone on this team," Phil says turning a serious eye on her. He hesitates a fraction of a moment, as though weighing what he has to say in his mind before delivering it. "If I seem reluctant in that regard, it's simply because when it comes right down to it, S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't there when we needed them. And it's not that they couldn't do anything; it's that they refused to do anything. That doesn't sit well with me. Not at all. I trust you and your opinion here. If Skye requires a doctor, then we'll take her to one, but they won't be one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s."
Jemma studies him carefully, glancing at Skye now and again. She remembers the anxious period spent in the waiting room while the surgeons worked on Skye, remembers her own fears and dread and worry. But there had been a reason they'd gone off on what could have been a wild goose chase, looking for a way to save her. Phil had reached out for help and was met with silence. She remembers the look of anger, of frustration and how it had manifested in his brief outburst of slamming his phone to the table before it had morphed into a cool resignation.
S.H.I.E.L.D. is a family to many of them and a home to even more. It's a support network. So finding themselves without support had been, well, hurtful. Jasper's words about coming change suddenly come back to her and she finds herself coming to understand Phil's thought process. The man is living proof that their medical capabilities are advanced enough to literally raise the dead, so to think that they couldn't use those capabilities to prevent someone from dying seems unthinkable. The fact that they wouldn't use them seems cruel. She straightens her posture and clears her throat, looking to him with a determined gleam in her eye.
"If Skye is to remain here with us, then I expect full authority to do whatever I deem necessary to ensure my patient makes a full recovery," Jemma says briskly. "That would mean that my status as her doctor would override your authority as senior agent in the case of decisions regarding her medical treatment and wellbeing. If you can agree to those terms, then I believe I will be fully capable of handling Skye's treatment without the need for outside intervention, sir."
"I can agree to those terms," Phil assures her. "You're sure you can handle it?"
"Quite sure, sure," Jemma responds with a nod.
"I've asked a lot of you recently and I know I'm standing here asking for more, but you should know that I never ask for something that I don't think someone's capable of doing," Phil says slowly. "All the same, I'm sorry that I have to ask in the first place."
Jemma shakes her head. "I wouldn't offer to do it if I wasn't sure I could."
"Well, offer isn't exactly the word I'd use. You kind of just told me you were doing it," Phil says, his tone shifting to something more lighthearted. "I felt intimidated."
"As well you should," Jemma says, placing her hands on her hips. "I am not to be crossed when it comes to a patient under my care."
"I'll warn the others."
"No need to warn Fitz. He knows from experience."
"Then I'll just tell him he has my sympathies."
They smile at one another and she feels they've reached a certain, unspoken understanding. There is another conversation that needs to happen between them, but she knows it will have to come later. For now, Skye is their priority and that is what they'll be focusing on. She starts when her phone begins vibrating in her back pocket and fumbles to retrieve it, shooting Phil an apologetic look. He waves her off, taking his seat once more.
"Why don't you take that and try to get a little more rest after?" he suggests.
"I'm sure it can wait," she says, even as the phone buzzes in her hand. "I really should just stay here—"
"You were only out three hours," Phil argues. "Go on and get yourself a proper night's sleep."
Jemma agrees, if only because she knows she needs it and if she's to take care of Skye, then she should be at her best. Right now, she's very far from it. So she retreats from the medpod, leaving Phil to continue his vigil, and picks up her insistently buzzing phone just before the call can go to voicemail.
"Jemma?"
"Hi," Jemma exhales, the greeting coming out in a slow sigh. "How are you?"
"I think that's probably a question I should be asking you," Jasper tells her.
"I'm…" Jemma says, letting the sentence peter out. She'd been about to tell him that she was fine, but that's not exactly true, is it? She rubs a hand over her eyes and massages her temple. "Well, I suppose I'm just tired. Worried."
"From that text you sent, I kind of guessed. I thought there wasn't anything else they could do for Skye," Jasper says.
"There wasn't anything else conventional medicine could do for her," Jemma says in agreement as she reaches her bunk.
There's a pause on the other end of the line as she steps inside and closes the door behind her. In the quiet of the room, she can hear him breathing and wonders what's going through his head.
"What happened?" he asks her.
Well, if that isn't a loaded question. She wonders how much she can really say here. It's a problem they've run into before and one of the many hazards of dating a fellow agent; sometimes there are things you just can't tell each other. This may just be one of those things. She knows there's a strong line of trust between Jasper and Phil, but is it strong enough to bear the weight of something like this? She herself trusts Jasper, but the things they're dealing with… this is the usual secret you ask your boyfriend to keep.
"Before I say anything, I need to know that it's not going to go anywhere," Jemma says, lying back on her bed. "I need you to promise me you'll keep it to yourself."
"If this is something I shouldn't be hearing…"
"No, I think I'll feel better after I've talked to you about it," Jemma says. "I just… need to be sure, that's all."
"You know that anything we talk about doesn't get repeated," Jasper reminds her. "If you want it to stay between you and I, all you have to do is ask."
Jemma takes a breath and nods her head, only to remember that he can't see her.
"When they told us there wasn't anything more they could do for Skye, that the best they could do was make her comfortable… Agent Coulson tried reaching out to anyone he could, including Director Fury," Jemma says. "No one answered."
"I'm guessing this doesn't end with all of you waiting around and Skye making a miraculous recovery?" Jasper says.
"No. Instead we took Skye with us and Agent Coulson had Fitz and I review his files," Jemma says. "The one that Director Fury had denied him access from. The one detailing his death and recovery."
"Shit," Jasper breathes quietly. "Do you even have the clearance level to be looking at something like that?"
"No, we don't. But given the situation, Agent Coulson gave us permission," Jemma relates back.
"And you found something."
"Yes," Jemma answers. She rolls on her side, phone pressed to her ear as she curls up. "How much do you know about what's in that file?"
"Nothing, really. All I know is what they debriefed us on; that Phil had been dead a short period of time, that they'd managed to resuscitate him and that he'd recovered in Tahiti," Jasper reports.
"He was dead for five days," Jemma corrects him.
There's silence, followed by a disbelieving snort of laughter.
"You're joking, right?"
Jemma sighs.
"You're not joking," Jasper says flatly. "How is that even possible? It's not possible."
"Apparently it is," Jemma says. "And what we saw in his file lead us to try to retrieve a… serum. Something that we couldn't identify that we thought might have been the key to what brought him back. This serum, after it was administered, Agent Coulson's body showed signs of tissue repair and regeneration within minutes. And if we had that, we thought if it was strong enough to raise the dead, then it might be what we needed to save Skye."
"And you're telling me you managed to find this serum? Whatever it was?" Jasper questions. She can practically hear the frown in his voice. "Something like that, it'd be under pretty heavy lock and key. You managed to take it from underneath S.H.I.E.L.D.'s nose without them noticing?"
"Not exactly," Jemma admits. "This wasn't a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility."
Jasper goes silent again. It's a lot to take in, she knows. If she's being honest, she's still digesting it herself. The implications are… not good. Combined with Jasper's prior warning of change, it unsettles her stomach to wonder what these things might mean. For all of them, for S.H.I.E.L.D., for the future. She knows it's a question weighing heavily on Phil's mind, and now on Jasper's as well.
"I think that's all I need to know," Jasper says slowly. "I think that for now, it's better off if you don't give me any more specifics."
"Alright," Jemma answers quietly.
"Hey," he says, his tone going soft. "You okay over there?"
"I'm worried," Jemma confesses. "About everything. About what you said is coming. I just feel like there's this great big… something on the horizon and we're not going to be prepared when it finally comes."
"I'm sorry. I know I was about as vague in that regard as I could possibly be," Jasper apologizes. "But I'm doing everything I can to make sure that you are prepared. The things I'm doing right now, that I can't talk about? That's what this is for."
"But are we doing the right thing?" Jemma has to ask, closing her eyes. "Are we moving in the right direction?"
"I don't know. I don't know if any of us are doing the right thing," Jasper sighs. "And after this… I really don't know. But I know this: I trust you and I trust Phil. I trust that your team will do the right thing when the time comes."
"I like to think that we will," Jemma says. She opens her eyes and stares at the clock on her bedside table, ticking away the minutes. "Jasper, when you said it was better if you didn't know specifics… is it because of the work you're doing?"
"Yes," he confirms. He doesn't elaborate.
"Are you safe?" she has to wonder.
"This isn't about safety, Jemma, it's about—"
"I don't want you to get hurt," she blurts. "And especially not because of me."
"I'm being as careful as I can. But some things, they're bigger than we are. Some of them are even worth giving your life for," Jasper tells her. "Sometimes it's the sort of thing I'm doing, sometimes you jump out of a plane to save your team."
Jemma feels her cheeks go pink. Sometimes she manages to forget about that, that thing she'd tried to do. Because it had been foolish and if put in the same situation, she'd probably do it again, if she's being completely honest. What they're discussing now is the reason that she treasures their 'family game night' on the Bus. It's the reason she fights. Because these are the people she loves and she will do absolutely everything she can to make sure they're safe, to make sure there are more happy memories, even if it means giving her own life. The thing is, it's a mentality they all share, which means losing one of them isn't such an outlandish possibility.
"The point is, we can't know how things will turn out. All we can do is our very best and hope that it means something in the end," Jasper continues on. "You do your best to protect the things you love. You're one of those things for me. And maybe this isn't the best time to say it for the first time, but I do. Love you, I mean. I just wanted you to know that."
Jemma feels her heart swell at the words. They surround her like a safety blanket, keeping the worries of the world at bay, at least for the moment.
"I love you, too," she answers.
"Yeah?"
His response pulls a quick laugh from her. He'd sounded bolstered by the fact that she'd said it too, like he'd been uncertain that she would. It's something that she's been considering for some time now; there's always the worry over when is the right time in a relationship to tell someone you love them. The question of whether or not she loves him had been easy to answer, but when to say it? There's she'd been far less certain.
"Yes, I do. I have for quite some time now," Jemma informs him.
"I wish I could have said it in person," Jasper says. "It's bad enough you have to settle for phone-dates."
"It's not settling," Jemma corrects him. "It never has been."
They continue to a softer, lighter conversation. After an hour has gone by, she finds herself far more at ease than she'd been just a short time ago. The need for sleep makes her eyes itch and her mind fuzzy and she knows the conversation has to draw to a close soon. She feels a sudden longing for her apartment, for a rainy day and her bed and him in it. She tells him as much.
"Soon, maybe. Maybe you can spend a night or two at my place this time," he suggests. "I'd like you to meet my buddy Andy, too. Maybe get Fitz in on it and the four of us could go out sometime."
"I don't think I've ever met any of your friends," Jemma says, her curiosity piqued.
So far, they'd really done everything to suit her, hadn't they? He's only been to her apartment, met her friends. Not that they've had time for much else, but still it makes her realize that there's a side to him she hasn't seen yet. Has he even mentioned any friends up until this point? In passing, perhaps, but they've never really discussed it in-depth.
"Don't get your hopes up, she's an agent, too," Jasper says with a laugh. "But Andy's… well, I guess you could say she's my Fitz."
"You two are close, then," Jemma hums.
"She's like family," Jasper says. "I don't exactly have parents to take you home to, so she's about the closest thing."
"Oh, should I be worried?" Jemma asks with an amused smile.
"Only if you need to brush up on your Disney films," Jasper answers, sounding equally amused. "Once alcohol enters the equation, there are sing-a-longs. Sometimes before alcohol. Okay, I won't lie: we look for any excuse to break out in song and embarrass ourselves in public."
"Looks like I've got some homework," Jemma says with a light laugh. "Where would you recommend I start?"
"Mulan. Always start with Mulan," Jasper answers. "Let me know when you're going to watch; I can get a stream up and we can video chat on Skype and watch it together."
"Mm. I hate to say it, but I'm fading fast. Can I talk to you again soon?"
"I'll be around."
"Maybe tomorrow, after I've slept some?"
"I'd like that. And maybe ask Phil when he plans on letting you off that Bus."
"Maybe I'll just see if we can dock somewhere close to you so you can visit?" Jemma suggests hopefully.
"Phil's a romantic at heart. Just give him puppy dog eyes when you ask and he'll do it."
"I'll certainly keep that in mind," she answers. "I'll talk to you soon."
"Alright. Get some rest."
"Love you."
"Love you, too."
"One more time?"
She gets a laugh and a soft "I love you" and decides that's all she needs for a good night's sleep.
Jemma studies the vitals she'd recorded from Skye, shaking her head in disbelief. Despite what she's seen with her very own eyes, she's still amazed at how much the other woman has recovered in just a couple of days.
"So what's the news with you and Mr. Agent Sitwell Sir?" Skye prods, playing with her IV.
Jemma clears her throat and sets the clipboard aside. "Well, we had a lengthy conversation the night after our mission and he… well… he said the 'L' word."
"Lesbians?" Skye answers brightly.
"What? No. Love. He said he loves me," Jemma says, bewildered.
"And? Did you say it back?" Skye prods.
"Of course I said it back, don't be silly," Jemma scoffs.
"Look at you," Skye says proudly. "All rosy cheeks and in lesbians. So is he going to visit soon? AC said we were docking close by."
"In a few days, maybe," Jemma said. "He's a bit busy at the moment, unfortunately."
"So what happens from here?"
"Well, I'm going to continue with a regiment of intravenous antibiotics and fluids to be sure that you're—"
"No, no, I mean with you two," Skye interjects hurriedly. "I mean… do you think you'll move in together or something? And what about further down the line, if it all works out? I dunno if you're a marriage kind of girl or if he's a marriage kind of guy. Or kids even. Wow, picture that, huh?"
Even as she considers that maybe it's time to start dialing back Skye's pain medication, Jemma wonders. Moving in, marriage, children. How many of those are things she wants? How many of them are even possible? With their lifestyle, would something like marriage or children even be feasible? Or responsible? She suspects she won't be flying around the world on the Bus forever, but she really has no idea what the future holds for them.
She smiles and fluffs up Skye's pillows and says, "I'm really not sure about any of those things. Not that I haven't thought of them, of course, but… for now, all either of us can do is move forward and hope that we do the right thing when the time comes."
There will be time someday for talk of these things, but for now she's happy with what she has. She only hopes she can hold on to it. Without forgetting the clouds on the horizon, she opts to focus on the sunshine she has, while she has it.