Fitzsimmons

One Door Closes, Another Opens

Quick Note: That hand holding scene has me so fangirly and inspired. Here's a oneshot of what happened after the last episode.

---------------------------------------------

It was strange after the fact, but in that moment, Jemma felt an unmistakable instinct to grab Fitz's hand. That's what seemed to happen when the world was falling apart around them, when their friends betrayed them. They gravitate forcefully towards each other, because deep down both knows that the other would never turn. No matter how bad things get, they would never, ever harm one another. They would be there to heal each other.

So once the team hastily vacated to a trustworthy safe zone, then fretted over where Skye was, then determined she could take care of herself, Fitz and Simmons ended up sharing the same lounge chair, even though there was several other seats open. Personal space wasn't a thing for them, and though the team had frequently pointed this out before, they kept their mouths shut now. The whole team, or what was left of it, understood the need to recover with the people closest to them. The people they were sure they could trust. Or at least more sure.

"Mack shielded me from the explosion," Fitz was whispering, trying to stick up for the engineer who might've once been his friend. "He was trying to rescue us, I think."

"Yes, but do you really think he saved you to save you? Or did he save you for your usefulness in... the other organization." Nobody knew what to call this 'real S.H.I.E.L.D.', because calling it 'real S.H.I.E.L.D.' felt like a joke, or a betrayal of everything they had worked for.

Fitz looked away from where their hands her intertwined yet again, a bitter smile upturning his lips. "I'm not useful to them."

"Fitz," Jemma interjected, scrambling to come up with a good response. "You've changed, but that doesn't mean you're worse than before."

Fitz nodded, considering this, but not really agreeing. Still, something in him was woken up by Jemma's persistence, something hopeful. He couldn't ignore how great it felt when Jemma was there for him.

"What have you and Coulson been doing to Skye?" Fitz asked, taking advantage of their open conversation.

Jemma sighed, glancing over to where the director stood, having a hushed conversation with May. Fitz didn't pressure an answer like he wanted to; he waited for her to be ready.

"They're gloves I made for Skye. We told her they were meant to control her genetic mutation."

"What do they really do?" Fitz asked knowingly, then brushed his thumb across the back of her hand reassuringly. It was his way of communicating forgiveness. Jemma took a deep breath, turning back to their hands.

"They've been chemically engineered with the single purpose of killing the affected cells through electric pulses."

Fitz concealed his disappointment effectively, instead leaning into her and throwing an arm around her shoulders.

"I regret it so much now," Simmons whispered, shamelessly burrowing her head in his sweater. This was what she needed for comfort. Fitz was her medicine.

"Skye will forgive you," Fitz promised, and he knew it was the truth. "Just like I forgive you."

"Thank you, Leo," Jemma managed, too tired to sort through the overwhelming mess of feelings.

"Thank you, Jemma," Leo replied, kissing the top of her head gently as she drifted away into sweet dreams of them.