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I.
“Simmons.”
“Simmons, hey, Jemma .”
She flinched awake, blinking her eyes to clear the fuzz out of her line of vision. The lights of S.H.I.E.L.D’s science division library were bright blurred circles from the particles of dust and smudges from leaning on her arm.
She lifted her head from her impromptu cushion, made of biochem book and a floral print blouse sleeve to see Fitz pulling his hand away from her shoulder.
“Sorry,” He pushed a hand through his curls. “But you had your little, uh,” He gestured to his forehead. “Stress marks between your eyebrows and you looked upset - I think you were having a nightmare.” Fitz hastened to add, tilting his head to catch her eye and make her look at him.
“Yes, I was. Thanks.” Jemma slipped a bookmark into her chemistry book before shutting it. She figured that she wouldn’t be getting much more out of that one tonight.
She would’ve been embarrassed if it had been anyone but Fitz to be around to witness that bit of weakness from her, let alone have someone else wake her up from a nightmare.
But it was Fitz and Fitz wasn’t just anyone else.
“Was it about…?” He trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid but giving Jemma a knowing look. A thought hit her suddenly, that there was a possibility that they’d been having the same worries this whole time.
“The team Agent Coulson is supposedly putting together. Yeah.” She dropped her gaze, a bit sheepish. “We’re the shoe-ins, in case you haven’t heard.”
“We should both be excited, shouldn’t we?” Relief pooled in her gut and seeped through Jemma’s veins like melted butter upon hearing Fitz’s ‘ shouldn’t ’, that she wasn’t alone in this fear. “I’m nervous as hell, and I know you are, but everyone is so… They just want it so bad, and here we are, anxious and ungrateful.” He rubbed his eyes and groaned into his hands. “I mean, you’re so bloody agitated you’re having goddamn stress nightmares-”
“I’d manage a guess that I’m not the only one having some bad dreams.” She murmured, cutting Fitz off gently.
He shook his head, his curls brushing the sides of his forearms.
Oh, Fitz. Jemma leaned forward on her library seat, wrapping her french-tipped fingers around his wrists and squeezing. “Easy, Fitz. Breathe. It’ll work out in the end.”
“But-”
“No. No really!” Jemma insisted, rubbing calming circles on the back of his palms. “If we absolutely hate it, or it doesn’t even happen - remember, this is just a rumor at this point, we very well could be stressing over nothing - we’ll still have a thousand job options. Not literally, of course, but what I mean is, we’ll still be okay. We can work at the Hub.”
“Hold on and take a minute to acknowledge that you just called the Hub our fallback plan.” Fitz chuckled, lifting his head to meet her eyes, finally, and grinned at her with eyes so shining so bright they made the stars look like counterfeit. He opened his mouth, shut it, licked his lips, opened again and after a moment began to speak. “It is our backup plan, right?” There was something unsaid in his eyes, Jemma recognized.
I’m not leaving you, you bloody idiot , she thought fondly.
“Well, of course. Since we’ve been apparently offered up to S.H.I.E.L.D. and Coulson as some sort of two-for-one deal, I don’t see why the Hub would be any different.” She reached back to flick her hair over her shoulder. “And if not, well, I suppose they can suck it.”
Fitz huffed at her “Simmons, please, be serious.” And pouted, an honest-to-goodness puppy dog of a boy.
“I am!” She laughed, eyes widening. “We’ll open our own Hub. Simmons and Fitz: for all of your biochem and engineering needs.” She added air quotes.
“Fitz and Simmons. Sounds better.”
“Fitzsimmons.”
“Deal.”
“Shake on it?”
II.
Fire was all that she could comprehend. Fire and heat and urgency and fear. Run Jemma run Jemma run run runrunrun.
She startled awake in her bunk, hands twisting in the covers over her stomach, feeling her breaths force her sternum to move too fast. She couldn’t slow down and her lungs were starting to hurt and she had goosebumps and her heart rate was too high and she couldn’t slow down .
Jemma leaned over her bunk and pulled a water bottle out of her bag to hold against her neck; it wasn’t as cold as it could be but at least it was something to ground her back into the present. White bunks, white blankets, pile of science books at the foot of the bed. Hers.
She yawned until her jaw popped but pushed herself up anyways. That was her second nightmare of the night and she didn’t fancy inviting another into bed with her.
After she stopped trembling and once her hands and mind had steadied, Jemma pulled a blue cardigan with her, she already knew where she was going, and from routine, she knew it wouldn’t be warm enough for a tank top and leggings.
That was one of the only problems with Coulson’s bus, she mused as she tip-toed through the corridors. Her favourite place was always freezing. Perhaps if she’d be able to get Fitz to play around with something on the bus so that she wasn’t uncomfortable every time she went into the lab -
“Oh, Fitz, hello!” Jemma startled as she stepped into the lab and the doors gently wooshed shut behind her.
“Simmons? What are you-” He cut off due to cracking his head off of the corner of their lab table as he stood up to see her. “ Ouch , mother fucker -” He cupped the back of skull with his hand and grimaced at her dimly, both pleased and pained expression on Fitz’s face.
“Are you alright?” Jemma hurried across the lab to kneel beside him, attempting to brush off his question, the memory of the blatant terror from the dream made her stomach churn and brought a bitter taste to her mouth.
“I’ll be fine.” Fitz settled back onto his haunches and waved his fingers at her, attempting to dissolve her concerns. Jemma knew full well that Fitz always hated her mothering and hovering, all the more when he’d accidentally given her something to fuss over him about.
Like hell if his halfhearted ire would make her stop. The boy had no regard for his own safety, he’d barely remember to feed himself if he wasn’t prompted repeatedly.
Even hopeless, he’s still my best friend , she thought fondly, a minuscule smile curling the side of her mouth up, and I love him all the more for it .
Jemma settled in for the long haul, leaning her back against the cool steel of the table, stretching her legs out across the floor and crossing her ankles. She turned her head to the side, leaning her temple on the metal to face him head-on. “So, it’s”, She pulled up her cardigans sleeve to check her watch. “Two forty-three in the morning, why are you in the lab, Fitz?”
“I suppose I could ask you the same question.” Fitz arched an eyebrow at her, tossing a knowing look her way. “In fact, I already have.”
Jemma dropped her gaze to the floor tiles and used her teeth to play with her bottom lip to buy herself some time, so that she could formulate an answer which wouldn’t make her sound like a child that needed a hug and some warm milk.
“I just wish there was more we could’ve done for him!” She blurted out, abruptly. “No, hold on,” Jemma held up a delicate hand to cut Fitz off before his rebuttal could begin. “I know that we did everything we could for Scorch, but still. I wish that there were more options.”
“Well, I was actually triple-checking the paralytic serum a bit before you walked in, and I just about cracked my skull open.” Fitz grinned ruefully, and ducked his head to rub the the nape of his neck.
“Did you ever find anything?” Jemma asked idly, twisting her lips to the side.
“Nothing we haven’t seen before.”
“ Dammit .” She hissed, smacking her hands down on the lab floor. “I felt so helpless,” Jemma’s voice faded to a pitiful whisper, and she pulling up her legs, mimicking Fitz’s position, who was still watching her with a soft look on his face, albeit without the smirk, now.
“Jemma,” Fitz began, a cautious tone of voice that told her ‘I’m going to ask a question that might make you cry, but I need you to know it breaks my heart when you cry, so please don’t’. “What was your dream about?”
Jemma inhaled a short breath, and her shoulders deflated, her whole figure crumpling back against the side of the table that held Fitz’s aforementioned serum results, her hands coming up to fist together in front of her mouth to hide her trembling lips.
“I don’t really remember the situation, but I know that it was about Scorch.” She murmured, her voice semi-muffled by her fingers. “I remember how it felt, though.”
Fitz didn’t reply, just blinked calmly, once and nodded for her continue.
“Hold on, you first. If you’re making me talk about feelings, then you very well have to, too, Fitz.” Jemma bumped her leggings clad knee against the denim of his jeans. “An eye for an eye, as they say. Why are you in here as well?”
“Honestly? I never left. I planned on leaving a few minutes after you left, I just had to finish shutting down the Holotable, but then I was organizing some files - just mine, don’t worry, I value my life enough not to touch yours,” He interjected to placate Jemma. “Then I wanted a snack, and it just went on like that.” Fitz shrugged. “I didn’t even realise what time it was until you came in.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Jemma smiled faintly.
“What time is it now?” Fitz lips twitched, fighting a yawn, Jemma assumed.
“It’s…” She pulled up her sweater sleeve to check her watch. “Three oh-seven. Too late.”
“Okay, you finish telling me about your dream and we’ll head back to bed. Lord knows the one time we don’t go to sleep will be the day the world decides to end.”
“Again.” Jemma added.
“Again.” Fitz agreed. “Focus, the dream.”
“Right,” Jemma let out a shuddering breath, and played with her fingers, looking down at her knees. “Like I said, I don’t remember the actual events of the dream, it was mostly just a feeling, anyways. I was really panicked, frantic is a better word. And the heat . Everything was on fire, and we had to run but we couldn’t, or we couldn’t run fast enough, or I don’t know.” She splayed her arms out lazily in front of herself, turning her head to Fitz, inadvertently giving herself a neck ache.
Fitz reached for her wrists, wrapping his fingers around her wrists one handed and pulling them gently down in front of her, and wrapped his spare arm around her waist, tugging her carefully - if a bit awkwardly - against his side. Jemma went easily enough, pillowing her head against his upper arm, tucking her arms inside the space between her sternum and thighs, getting comfortable.
“This job is scary.” Jemma finally admitted, her lips brushing Fitz’s arm through his shirt.
“Yeah.” Fitz whispered back to her, readjusting and tightening his grip around her waist. “It is.”
The weight of the day and the lack of sleep had settled deep into their bones and they got quiet, their breathing deepening and evening out. Jemma noticed Fitz had nodded off first, his head lolling over to rest against hers. She reached up carefully, trying not to jostle his head too much, and pushed a few strands of hair delicately away from his eyes, and eyelashes, tucking them gently behind the curve of his ear.
“Goodnight Fitz.” Jemma hummed, tipping her head back against the side of the table.
Fitz mumbled something in his sleep at her, that could have quantified a ‘goodnight’, but she was already asleep. Safe from the bad dreams.
III.
There were voices in her dream.
They were her friends voices.
She was sorry she had to do it. That she had to jump.
But she was doing this to save them, because if she stayed in the Bus and subsequently exploded there, everyone else would die, too.
Now she was falling and she was scared.
“Should we wake her up?” Skye asked, smoothing Jemma’s curls away from her face, which was currently contorted in distress.
Fitz and Skye were crouched down beside Simmons, on the floor by her bunk, who was clearly having a nightmare of some sort. Her pulse was elevated - Fitz, ever the rationalist, had checked right before getting Skye to help him, the obvious grimace on her face and a thin sheen of sweat beaded across her forehead. Once in awhile, she made a small, sad whimpering noise that absolutely shredded Fitz’s heart.
“Yeah, we better. Give her some room,” Fitz gestured with his chin to the left, directing daisy to scoot back a bit. “Simmons doesn’t like the, uh, sensation of being boxed in.”
Jemma twitched again and let out a huff of air, drawing Fitz’s attention back to her. She’d somehow twisted herself into a cocoon of blankets on her S.H.I.E.L.D. bunk like she was trying to hide herself from the world.
Fitz couldn’t blame her.
Jemma’d had a rough day.
It was Daisy’s voice that her infiltrated into her dream first.
Then Fitz, poor Fitz. Jemma hoped he wouldn’t miss her too much, and that he wouldn’t bury himself in his work.
She’d miss him most of all, of course.
“Simmons,” Fitz murmured, sliding an arm around her back to help support her, to prop her up while she got her bearings around herself. Jemma waking up from a nightmare could be disorientated at best, panicky at worst.
Her entire body stiffened, muscles coiling to fight, before her eyes snapped open.
What happened next, in Fitz’s opinion, happened very quickly.
Jemma startled back into consciousness with the rest of them and inhaled a breath so large she thought her lungs might burst from the force of it, then immediately, unexpectedly flung herself off the bed and directly into Fitz’s arms.
There was a quick second where the only things happening in the room were Skye standing up quietly and backing out of the bunk area, giving them some space.
Jemma could feel herself shaking like a leaf in a thunderstorm, from her fingertips to the feet, which were still in the bunk. She hadn’t even bothered to untangle herself in her haste. After a moment of her just being settled, leaning against Fitz’s chest, she noticed that there were no hesitant arms hugging her back, no fingers coming up to smooth down her, not even an uncertain voice telling her “Everything will be okay, Simmons, just breathe.”
An prickly, icy wave of embarrassment and fear rolled through her body, and she felt the familiar tingle of a flush rising to her face. Jemma loosened her arms from around Fitz, neck and began to pull away. “Ah, sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
“No, no,” Fitz hurried to explain, and finally, finally Jemma felt his arm come up and wrap around her ribs, while the other reached over and scooped her legs, mess of blankets and all, over the side of the bunk, so she was propped up sideways against his chest, and her head could droop on his shoulder. “It’s alright, Simmons, stay where you are. You just startled me a bit.” Fitz’s voice was tense and high, but not uncomfortable or stressed
Well, alright then, Fitz, if you insist , Jemma figured, deciding she may as well take comfort where she could.
Jemma shifted so she wasn’t exactly sitting on Fitz’s lap , per se, more so that she was sitting on the floor beside him with her legs draped over his thighs, but she stayed close enough that she could still curl up to his shoulder. The crook of Fitz’s elbow rested along the back of her neck, fingers rubbing her forearm.
Jemma felt pressure settle gently against the top her head, her sleep-mussed hair. “Are you okay, Simmons?” Fitz whispered.
“Could be better,” She murmured.
“It was about falling, I guess?” After waiting a moment for a reply that wouldn’t come, he continued. “It’s okay, You’re okay. No one got hurt.”
“I jumped out of a plane.” Jemma whispered, incredulous and a little sad. “I almost died, because I was going to blow up and kill everyone in the process, due to a virus a picked up from a fireman’s helmet, so i jumped out of a plane. ” Fitz’s free hand cupped her knee, smoothing his thumb over it, back and forth, back and forth, attempting to sooth her.
“Yeah. You did. But it’s okay. Everyone’s okay.” He repeated.
They were quiet for a while, Jemma’s breathing finally settling back to normal, Fitz just making calming motions over her knees and back, lulling her into a feeling of tenuous safety and calm, that very well may not hold once she was alone again.
Jemma pulled a little bit away from Fitz, giving him a look . “If you make things awkward tomorrow, because we cuddled,” She flicked her hand that wasn’t holding onto the neck of his shirt up in the air in the universally known ‘whatever’ motion “After I had nightmare, then, Fitz, I swear to god -”
“You’ll push me off of the bus?” He ducked his head to grin at her, his curls bouncing forward around his ears.
Jemma glared sharply from under her eyelashes, making a fist and smacking his shoulder, gently. “Leopold Fitz,” He cringed at the use of his full name. “That is not funny.”
“Too soon?”
“Too bloody soon.” She hit him again, without a joking tone in her voice. Too soon, too far .
“Sorry, Simmons.” He stroked up and down Jemma’s arm again, tucking her further against his chest.
“Mhmm.” Jemma bumped his shoulder again with her knuckles, but acquiesced.
After another moment, Fitz tapped her shoulder. “Let’s get you back into bed, you should get a full night’s sleep.”
“Okay.” She straightened out her legs, and slid them off over Fitz’s legs. She reached for the edge of her bunk for support to pull herself up to standing again.
While Jemma situated herself in her bunk, Fitz crossed his arms, leaning against the wall of the bunk, watching her.
“Goodnight, Simmons.”
“Night, Fitz.” She smiled up at him. “Thank you.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“See you.”
IV.
Jemma had a lot of nightmares now. Almost every night.
Getting up everyday to work at HYDRA was a nightmare, too.
Nightmares while she sleeps, nightmares while she’s awake.
It’s a never-ending cycle.
V.
Jemma was prepared for all this. She’d wrapped a blanket around herself ages ago, even though here, there was no chill due to a sourceless wind, or any threat of sandstorms here in the bunker.
Daisy had helped her into fresh clothes, comfy and familiar, they were somewhat grounding, which was, of course, her intention. Remind Jemma that she was home, and safe, with her friends and her family, not.
Not there anymore.
This is precisely why she had accepted this would be happening tonight. The flashbacks, the oddness of being back on a mattress in a room, in a house , because even with it being a couple night since she Fitz rescued her, the four thousand seven hundred twenty-two hours that she’d been gone, according to Fitz, were still a strange eerie blur of cold where monster dark Will lonely lost crowding into her head.
Jemma was laying on a mattress in a relatively empty sleeping room in the Playground. There was the cot she was on, and not much else. Daisy had been in here at one point, before Jemma had fell asleep, but there was no sign of her now, aside from a black hoodie balled up by her feet.
She was strangely calm, for a girl who’d just woken up from a nightmare depicting a sea monster burying her under tonnes of sand on an empty alien planet in an entirely different solar system, she acknowledged.
Jemma settled back gingerly against the pillows that she’d jolted up from moments ago, the softness still a little jarring to her after so many nights of ground. She pulled the blanket up around her neck from where it’d pooled around her waist, and rolled her head across the pillow to watch Fitz, asleep on the floor beside her bed.
Just like the other nights.
Jemma unearthed one arm from underneath the beige blankets and flipped onto her side, stretching her arm out of the bed to poke the side of Fitz’s head, nudging his curls with her fingers.
He twitched, a frown and wrinkles briefly appearing on his face, but those flickered away after a second.
“Fitz.” She whispered.
Jemma rolled her eyes at his lack of response, and dropped her hand down to settle onto his shoulder. She gripped Fitz’s arm over the maroon sleeve of his sweatshirt, and shook him, gently.
“Simmons?” He startled awake, bumping his head against the wall behind him. “Sorry, sorry, are you okay? Did you have a nightmare? It’s okay, you’re-,” Fitz babbled on, flustered and concerned.
“Easy, Fitz. I know I’m fine and where I am and all that.” She placated him. “But you’re right, I did have a nightmare.”
“You are… very calm?” Fitz raised an eyebrow at her cautiously.
“I am indeed.” She twisted her lips from side to side and shrugged, tilting her head, too
They watched each other for a moment, calmly on Jemma’s part, a little bewildered on Fitz’s side.
“Oh...kay then. Scoot,” He straightened up to an actual sitting position instead of just leaning against the wall of the bunker to sleep, trying to roll the stiffness and general aches out of his neck and back, and gestured for her to move over on the cot.
“Pardon.” Jemma said flatly, leaning forward so that blankets slid down her chest slightly, revealing a long sleeved grey flannel. It’s not like the bunker carried provocative nightwear, a small part of her brain mused. Sorry Fitz.
A flush rose to Fitz’s cheeks, hard . “I just meant…” He trailed off, reaching up to scratch his head with one hand, ducking her gaze.
“Shhh,” She poked the side of his head, again, and pushed herself up with her hands, sitting up properly with her back against the pillows and the wall. “I get it.” Jemma lifted her hips, moving sideways across the bed. She dropped her head back to stare at the top of the bunk above her, focusing on keeping her breathing steady as Fitz shifted in her peripheral vision, feeling for the first time that night, the slight pressure in her chest.
Fitz got up into a crouch and started to stand up, then he glanced down at Jemma’s face, and she guessed that whatever expression had creeped over her face was sufficiently worrying enough to make him pause. He dropped back down onto his haunches, resting his elbows on the edge of the mattress, leaning his chin on his hands.
“Simmons, what happened?”
“I’ll tell you,” She informed the bunk above herself earnestly. “I really will. Just, not when it’s the middle of the night and neither of us have enough sleep to process it.”
“I understand,” He sighed, rubbing his face with his palms. “And that isn’t what I meant. What happened in your dream.”
“The planet. What else?” Jemma’s shoulders slumped, and she finally caved, tilting her head to look at Fitz.
“I got that much.” He bumped her knee with his elbow and a corner of his mouth twitched, reluctantly. He stood up, flipping the top layer of the blankets back, but leaving the sheet down where it was, a thin barrier between himself and Jemma.
Jemma moved a little farther to the left, giving Fitz ample space to get in the bed with her. She was scooted against the wall the bed washed pushed against, and he rested on the edge, giving her a wide berth, once he slid in.
She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling as she felt the mattress dip, not turning around to face Fitz. She did, however, flick her eyes over the short space separating them, and fought back a giggle when she saw that they’d mimicked each other’s posture, down to interlacing their fingers across their stomachs. Jemma did let a small smile stretch on her face.
She could tell how people got the two of them mixed up.
Jemma, without her gaze leaving the ceiling reached over the gap between them, and hooked her pinky finger through Fitz. Reassurance that he was there, and they both knew it.
He squeezed her finger once, then relaxed, but kept them intertwined together.
“Go to sleep, Simmons,” Fitz murmured. “I’ll be here where you wake up.”
+ I
She didn’t have any nightmares last night.
Or, at least, Fitz didn’t think she did.
He’d dreamed about Simmons in an azure bikini, the same colour as the fish darting around her ankles in the water, with her ecstatic, high-pitched giggling echoing in the background with the palm tree’s and the clouds.
He refocused his gaze, not that he hadn’t been staring at her the whole time since he’d woken up, but he’d started to daydream about yesterday’s memories, and ended up staring into space, somewhere above her bare back.
Speaking of… he flipped over onto his side, taking in the view in front of him.
They were both under a light, white, overly fluffy duvet, that had slipped down to their waists the night before, during the tossing and turning of sleep. Simmons was flat on her stomach, with her head cushioned on her folded arms, her hair, somewhat-curly from the humidity and loose spread out like a halo around her, striking against the pure white pillows. Also, perhaps it was the lightness of the sheets, but she seemed to be developing a tan, as well.
Fitz leaned over, cautiously, and delicately rested his fingertips along Simmons’ spine. When she didn’t react, other than a nearly unnoticeable twitch, he relaxed.
He rolled over so that his body was parallel to hers, flat on his stomach, but his head was only in the crook of one elbow. Everything about Simmon’s radiated peace towards Fitz’s body - her loose muscles and the sun shining across the dips in her back, and if he wasn’t already so blissed out from the days of calm and happiness, this would make him all but melt.
Even though all that Fitz’s heart and his eye’s wanted to was to watch her back rise and fall as she breathed in the ocean air, his eyes, however, did not, so he decided to do just that. He grudgingly lifted his fingers from the small of Simmon’s back to tug his covers back up and readjusted his pillow with his other hand. Simmon’s preferred to sleep with two pillows under her head while Fitz only liked one. It worked rather well , he thought distantly, but that wasn’t really surprising.
Fitz settled back down into his pillow, nuzzling his face against the side of it. His eyelids were heavy - god, he’d gotten so lazy the last few days, from the calm routine and lack of stress, but he was still always able to sleep more.
He and Simmons had had plenty of good days lounging around on the beach, and with the comfort that there’d be more to follow, he draped his arm over her waist, and fell back asleep with Simmons.