Remembering Freedom

Anna Snow

WARNING: This chapter contains detailed medical procedures.

Everything hurt. Jemma was glad her cell was dark because the pounding in her head wouldn't withstand any light. She knew she probably had a concussion, but given that they just let her sleep instead of check up on her, they obviously weren't too concerned for her health. Even breathing hurt. Running a hand along her ribs, there wasn't anything broken, but there were a few fractures. Her left shoulder was one big knot, the muscles not allowing her to rotate or move her arm at all. She felt the right side of her face. Jemma knew she had a black eye and split lip and that the bruising probably covered the whole side of her face.

She knew it could've been worse...that James had held back as not to horribly injure her. He could've done more than fracture a few ribs and give her a black eye, but he didn't. She would heal from these with time.

After a few minutes, she managed to get into a sitting position. What had happened after Volkov cut the feed? She didn't think she would ever forget their expressions when they saw her beaten and tied up. Jemma could feel the tears building in her eyes...she wasn't sure how much longer she could take being here. She couldn't even cry without her body sending sharp pains through her chest. The dim lights flickered on, but she didn't hear anyone come in until the mattress dipped and a hand brushed lightly over the bruises.

"I'm so sorry...you know I didn't want to."

She looked over at James and saw the look in his eyes. They were full of so much pain and guilt. She knew how he had been raised with the 1940s mindset and hitting a defenseless woman was something he had been told never to do. She laid a hand on his shoulder, the metal cool against her skin. "I will heal James...I'll be okay."

"I heard you crying Jemma." He looked down at her hand. "You're not okay."

"I'm not made of glass James."

"But you're not invincible." He helped her to her feet, cringing as she stumbled. "Let me see your ribs."

"I checked them. I'm fine." She frowned at his raised eyebrow. "Seriously." Of course, when she tried to fold her arms across her chest, she gasped as her left shoulder refused to cooperate. "Fine. You'll have to take my shirt off though, my shoulder can't go that high."

Holding her arms out as far as they would go, James went to stand behind her. Lifting the hem between his fingers, he was gentle as he pulled the shirt up and off, leaving her in a plain black bra. His sharp intake of breath was his only reaction.

Jemma felt exposed with this much skin on display, some of which was bruised by him. She couldn't stop the blush from coming to her face or crawl down her neck. The cold metal felt heavenly on her bruised shoulder, but anything more than a gentle press had her biting her lip.

He noticed her reaction and took his hand away, instead coming around to see her ribcage. In the dim lighting, the bruising was finally noticeable to Jemma. She didn't realize how skinny she'd gotten until she noticed that her ribs were slightly visible beneath the skin. She forced herself not to jump when his flesh and blood hand ran lightly along each side of her ribcage. She forced herself to watch his expression, trying to ignore the warmth that followed his touch.

His lips were pressed into a thin line, his eyebrows drawn together. He was trying to keep his gaze clinical, but Jemma saw the guilt within the icy depths. He blamed himself and there would be nothing she could say that would convince him otherwise. He helped her with putting her shirt back on, his hands gliding down her sides until they settled on her hips for a short moment before he stepped back, those eyes cold once again. "I'll go get you some Ibuprofen."