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Chapter Three...

Simmons was for once in her life afraid of falling asleep. Once that met her all she could see was sky and then ocean as she spun downwards from the plane. All she could hear was the wind and the constant scream of her name being called like a plead. A desperate plea that left her so convicted for weeks now.

Simmons was tampering with the night-night gun by herself as it was nearing 3am. She was trying that added effort to minus the extra ounce Ward so clearly deserved to have in his weapon of choice. She owed him that for jumping out the plane for her.

She remembered Fitz's face on that day, that raw pain he usually kept tucked behind his small smiles. It was truly like he was begging.

It made her sick in the stomach thinking about if she was really gone and Fitz was now left on his own.

How could she cope if the role was switched?

She didn't know if she could. But she had the slightest faith that Fitz would be okay without her. He already had Skye anyway to ogle over.

"Jemma?" she heard his voice ask, in a groggy voice which made her jump out of her skin. How long had she been in the lab? "What's wrong?"

"Don't scare me like that Fitz!" she gasped, dropping the night-night gun and clenching her fingers on the edge of the bench.

"You've been muttering to yourself" he spoke softly, carrying a hot cup of tea wearing his pajamas. He seemed to find her muttering a strangely familiar thing. It was her brain speaking for her if it was too crammed.

Simmons felt hot tears prickling her eyes so she turned her back on him, pretending to look over-preoccupied. She felt his gaze burning through her.

"Jem" he repeated with a softer tone, slowly approaching her. He felt the urge to trace his hands around her hands which were shaking and clenching. He could see the shaky breathe she took too.

"Look at me" Fitz whispered, feeling the words echo through the empty lab.

She stood frozen, unsure if she wanted Fitz to see her looking like this. Like she had lost all hope.

"I'm fine" she quickly mumbled, trying to hide the catch in her voice.

That just did it for Fitz. He felt himself impulsively grabbing her by the shoulders and swiveling her around so he could really see. She didn't fight back through her exhaustion. She was just so tired from hiding.

Simmons felt a flurry of tears come to her eyes as she let out a raw sob.

"Hey hey shhhhh" he comforted, instinctively wrapping her in his arms where he felt she belonged. This reminded him an awful lot of that time back at the academy when Jemma came knocking on his door after being stood up by some utter twat who Fitz suddenly found repulsive just by seeing her with mascara running down her face from tears. It was the worst when she cried. "It's okay, you're alright" he repeated, like a slow and melodic chant.

"It just keeps happening" she hoarsely muttered into his shirt. Fitz's stomach dropped. "How do I make it stop, Fitz?"

He hesitated. Well how could you undo the toil from your brain on the brink of giving up? How could you un-see the sensation of falling on the end of life?

"I don't really know Jem" he simply replied, leaning his cheek on the top of her head. She smelt like raspberries, his favourite.

Her hands gripped the back of his cotton top, now wet with tears. He swayed her like a child and she tucked her head into his collar.

This was how it was meant to be but not at the same time.

She could never see the same light shone on her like her smile was for him.

It was never at all like that for her. It couldn't possibly be.

She always had men falling at her feet, finding her intelligence "sexy". She could have any guy she wanted. But it was whether they would treasure her like Fitz did was what caught him. Would it always be like this?

Could he not just kiss her to make the pain go away?

Did he have to witness Simmons feeling stranded? Could he?

"But you know I will always be there when you need me" he confirmed, missing the slight grin set upon Simmons' face.