At the sound of the alarm Fitz shot up, his head nearly colliding with Jemma's chin while Skye sprung to her feet, hands out, ready.

May appeared in the doorway, following her raised gun which she quickly lowered at the sight of them in the same moment that Skye lowered her arms.

"Skye, Simmons, we need you upstairs," she barked, jerking her head in the direction of the stairwell. "It's happening again." Her eyes fell on Fitz and she tilted her head in the other direction. "And you need to get back in your cell. Now."

"May wait…" Skye began, stepping forward.

"No," Jemma protested sharply, feeling a need for more force than Skye was putting forth, aghast at what May was asking them to do."No, he's staying with us." She drew herself up to her full height, burning with determination as she attempted to stare down the taller woman.

She was not going to lose Fitz again.

"He's what they want," May told her flatly, staring, unblinking, back at her. "We need to hide him."

Fitz? They wanted Fitz?

Jemma's eyebrows came together in a frown and she felt her shoulders drop, confused. "What?"

"Why?" Fitz asked, unreadable as he stepped around her. She let him pass, the fire startled out of her, though she kept a close eye on him. "What do they want with me?"

"They didn't say," May told him, softening just a little.

Jemma had seen that look before. May looked at Skye that way sometimes, and Jemma herself and… she'd looked at Fitz like that, before he'd been taken from them, before he'd come back from the dead. Perhaps she could see it too, who he was. Perhaps she was on their side.

"They sent us a message," May went on calmly. "It read 'Give us the reborn.'"

Fitz swallowed, his eyes darkening, and folded his arms across his chest. "So that's what they're calling me?" he muttered. His mouth twitched but he lifted his chin, blazing as brightly with courage as he always had as he spoke. "Then give me to them."

May's head tilted to the side and she sighed, sympathetic now, though Jemma hardly noticed. She was too busy rounding on Fitz, furious and protective at once. Fear making her snap at him.

"Are you mad?!" she demanded shrilly.

"No, I'm not, thanks for asking," he retorted, just as sharp. "Why shouldn't you give me up? I'm putting everyone here in danger." He pivoted so that he was facing May and Jemma wanted to scream at how stupidly noble he was being. "It'll make them stop won't it?" he asked expectantly.

Another sigh. "We don't know that."

"But it might," he pressed stubbornly.

Jemma shook her head, in complete disbelief at what she was hearing. Wasn't he worried about what they would do to him? Didn't he care? Her own heart felt as if it could burst from her chest at any moment, swollen and thumping against her ribcage.

Her eyes burned. "Fitz-" she breathed, pleading now.

"I'm not Fitz!" he barked angrily, whipping back around. She winced and his ferocity instantly melted away, leaving him gentle, sad. "I want to be, but I'm not and today…" He seemed on the verge of tears but he fought them back valiantly. "It was good, I was happy but it wasn't real. I'm not…" His voice broke and he stopped, taking a long, trembling breath. "Let me go Jemma."

'No.' She shook her head roughly but her throat was too tight for her to speak. 'No!'

She'd been trying to do that for almost a year and half, to let him go, and she almost had. Almost. And she really thought that she could have, or at least she could have found a way to move on and be happy, but that was before, that was when he'd been gone. He wasn't gone now, he was right there and he was real and he had just as much right to exist as any of them, wherever he'd come from.

"You're here," she said quietly, remembering his words to her down in the cell, in the moment that she'd finally seen him for what he was. "It doesn't matter what you are, you're here, in the world with everyone else and it needs you in it. It's still beautiful, there's still sunshine, even if it's different."

His hand moved up towards his neck and she knew he'd noticed the sunburn. She hoped she hadn't made a mistake, reminding him of what had caused it.

"We're not letting them take you," Skye added, stepping forward to stand beside Jemma. "You're under SHIELD's protection, and that means something."

He looked between them, and her heart broke at how surprised he was that they would be so willing to protect him. "I don't want anyone getting hurt because of me," he mumbled, dropping his gaze.

"It wouldn't be because of you," May said simply. "Skye's right, SHIELD doesn't give up good people."

That pulled out a quick, twitch of a smile but still he hesitated, feet frozen in place.

"Please," Jemma whispered, breathless from the weight on her chest. It was low, she knew before she said it that it bordered on manipulation, but she needed to keep him safe. "Please, don't make me lose you a second time."

They weren't crocodile tears, but they served the same purpose, and when their eyes met she knew she had him. The relief was too sweet for her to feel her guilt.

Very slowly, without breaking eye contact, he nodded. "I won't," he vowed quietly.

It was all May needed to leap into action. "Good," she said curtly. "Skye, come with me, Simmons, keep him safe."

Jemma reached down to take his hand, encouraged when he didn't pull it away and nodded resolutely. "I will."

/-/-/

They ran, hand in hand, down the halls of the Playground. Perhaps, unjoined, they may have been faster but she couldn't bring herself to let him go, not again.

Not again. Never again. No one is hurting you this time. The mantra repeated itself, over and over inside her head, louder than the screeching alarms. 'I won't let them take you again.'

Briefly, she debated whether she had time to grab a weapon, a gun, an ICER, anything that would let them defend themselves, but the walls were shaking again and whoever - or whatever- this was could be only minutes away from breaching the base.

It wasn't a risk they had time for.

At last they reached the basement door and she made Fitz go first, following so close she had to watch she didn't clip his heels as they sped down the staircase.

"Get in the cell," she instructed curtly when they reached the bottom, careful to seal the top door behind them before spinning around to face him. "I'll watch the stairwell."

He shook his head, refusing to budge. "No, not without you."

There he was, staring back at her with those smoldering blue embers, loyal to a fault. It awoke something inside of her, made her heart shudder the way only he could. How could she have ever thought he could be anyone else?

"The controls won't work from the inside of it," she reminded him urgently, feeling as if their enemies were coming closer each passing second. Perhaps they were. "We wouldn't be able to lock ourselves in."

Still he didn't move.

"I'll be fine," she promised, growing in desperation. "No one is getting past May and Skye. This is just a precaution."

That was a lie and they both knew it. He remained where he was, crossing his arms over his chest.

"The walls may cloak whatever it is that allows them to track you," she tried, appealing to his sense of reason. "That could be why they didn't come until you started spending more time outside. This is safer for both of us."

"What if they don't?" he demanded.

"And what if they do?!" she exclaimed, exasperated. "Fitz please, just trust me."

Their eyes met and she stared him down, determined to keep him safe even if it meant she needed to find a way to be more stubborn than he was. At last he nodded, breaking contact and stepping back.

"I always trust you," he murmured, moving into the cell at last. He lifted his head to meet her gaze once more as she put up the wall, clear for the time being. "Just…please be careful."

She nodded, sighing with relief. "I will be."

/-/-/

Nearly twenty minutes later, they were both sitting on the ground, leaning against the opposite sides of the barrier, backs only a few millimeters from touching, kept apart by it in body, but not in soul.

Fitz wasn't sure how it had happened, but he could sense that she grown to care for him, could see it in her actions and the way she treated him. Why, he didn't quite understand, but he was grateful for it none-the-less.

He cared for her too, as much as he could remember the man before him caring about her. He loved her like he had too, which he knew would only lead to heartache. Jemma wouldn't love him back. For all her kindness, despite her surprising friendship, he was certain that it was the original whom she wanted and as well formed as he was, he was still just a copy.

She was brave though, so brave, listening calmly to the rumbles above as if they were only thunder, murmuring quietly that it was going to be OK, and it made him brave too.

Made him feel as if he were falling in love with her all over again.

"Thank you," he said after the tremors seemed to have taken a pause. "For everything, you've been really kind to me."

She scoffed. "I haven't. You don't need to thank me for that."

Why did she sound so guilty?

"But you have," he pressed, continuing on even as her shoulders stiffened and she grew still. "You were upset, at first, that's understandable. It's OK, really it is. You've done so much for me and I know I'm just a copy-"

"No," she objected firmly. "No you're more than that. I- I need to tell you… I haven't been entirely honest with you… I was scared-"

"That's OK," he assured her quickly. "I understand. I would have been too."

She sighed. "No… no you don't." Her voice wobbled and his heart clenched as he realized she was on the verge of tears. "I'm so sorry Fitz… I… it's just that…" She took another shaky breath, working up the courage to continue, but he couldn't stand letting her beat herself up for this. It was beyond both of them, her initial reaction to him was nothing to be ashamed of.

"You don't have to apologize, I'm not angry with you," he promised. "It isn't your fault that-"

Without warning, a ball of light burned into existence in the center of the cell, flickering and hot like fire and shocking him into silence.

A figure appeared in a haze of orange light, a woman, almost. Tall with milky blue skin and dark whiteless eyes. She was dressed like an Asguardian but Fitz knew that that wasn't what she was.

Jemma must have heard his gasp behind her because she was on her feet and turned around in one swift motion, tablet in hand as she hastily tapped the controls.

And yet the wall between them remained.

"It won't work." Though the woman spoke to Jemma, her eyes were on Fitz, sparkling with an unsettling hunger. "My but aren't you fascinating," she mumbled under her breath..

"Leave us alone," he spat, pressing his back up against the barrier as Jemma continued her frantic battle with the tablet.

"You have no idea what you are, do you?" she cooed, taking another step forward, unconcerned when he raised up his arms in defence. "You're a miracle, you're the future. The beginning of a new age." She smiled, chuckling. "And yet you have no idea. A monkey in a spaceship. Do you remember that your kind sent animals first? Perhaps we aren't so different."

She stopped about two feet away, marveling at him. "It worked," she breathed.

"Stay away from him," Jemma growled. "Take down the barrier right now!"

The woman wasn't listening and in the time it took for her to stare at him, another collision shook the base.

"Stop attacking them!" he demanded. "Leave them alone."

"I will if you come with me." She held out her hand, inviting, and rose an eyebrow. "Don't you want to find out what you are?"

'Not from you, you goggling weirdo,' he thought hotly, but her first offer had more than tempted him.

"You'll leave?" he asked. "You'll stop attacking the Playground?"

"Fitz, no." Jemma whispered behind him. Her voice cracked, like her throat was closing on her, but he didn't falter.

'I'm not Fitz.'

The woman nodded, her smile widening as they both realized that he was about to comply. What did it matter anyway, if he didn't? There was no escape from this.

"You have a deal then," he answered, steadily meeting the gaze of his adversary, frightened but resolved as he reached out his hand.

"NO!" Jemma was screaming now, sounding like ice and sandpaper and pain. "No, please don't! I-"

He didn't hear the end of whatever she was trying to say. The instant his fingers touched the woman's palm he felt himself being ripped from where he stood, squeezed and twisted for only half a second before he was standing somewhere else.

Somewhere very far away from Jemma's anguished cries.

/-/-/

Thank you to notapepper for betaing this chapter :D You're out of this world :P

The title of this chapter is reference to something Garrett said at some point in season 1 about putting monkeys in those empty rockets they were launching into space (the ones that were supposed to have 0-84s or something). I think they actually did send monkeys into space, but the first animal in space was a dog. Poor little thing :(