Fitzsimmons

Why She Left

Quick Note: I cried while writing this. I'm so, so sorry.

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

"Sir, I think this is the best possible option for Fitz," Jemma pushed through the sentence roughly, trying to make it to the end before her voice would crack.

"How long did you say this drug will take?" Coulson replied, rubbing his forehead. Being the director of a clearly disorganized institution had certainly taken a toll on the poor man. Jemma almost felt bad about pushing for her option.

"Well, I just designed it, sir. I don't know how long it will take on a person, but I know it will work." She made sure to defend herself thoroughly. It seemed as though Coulson had been pushing the science departments to the side, aiming to focus on field operations with his new recruits.

"Any negative side effects?" Coulson said with a sigh.

"Not that- no," she said firmly. She knew this was the best option for Fitz. It would give him a fighting chance. It would give them a fighting chance. Even if the hallucinations kicked in, he would be okay by the end of it.

"Approved," Coulson said, then directed his attention to the files on his desk. Jemma had requested solutions for Fitz enough times, she knew this was the part where she left.

She went immediately to Fitz's pod (where she had told him to rest) to administer the pills she had created from nonstop work in their new lab.

"Fitz," she whispered as she pushed open the door lightly. Usually when she entered the bunk, her eyes would fill with tears from guilt. This time she smiled widely, anxious to give him a cure for his troubles.

He was sitting at his desk, fiddling with a magnetic TARDIS, and-

"Not resting." Jemma's smile dropped into a scowl, her doctor side showing through.

"I can't seem to shut my eyes. It's like I'm um, the word, the energy word, with my mind..." he trailed off, looking at Jemma for help.

"Hyperactive?" Jemma suggested kindly. Fitz nodded absently, then returned to the blue figure.

"Fitz, I have some medication to help you." Jemma took out the translucent orange bottle with the newly created pills, shaking it into her hand.

Fitz, without any hesitation plucked one from her before she could flinch, then swallowed it dryly. Jemma gaped at him.

"I didn't even tell you side effects! That was so dangerous, Fitz! What if you had an allergic reaction to something in them?"

Fitz simply shrugged. Looking away, he said, "I trust you."

Jemma nodded, then quickly turned and exited the room, feeling the guilt start to overcome her.

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

"Jemma, don't touch that." Fitz said from behind her. Jemma, working on the masking device for the Bus, glanced over her shoulder, confused.

"I'm not touching anything, Fitz," she replied.

"Yes you are, get your hand away from the microscope," Fitz swatted at the air next to him.

Jemma's eyes widened as she understood what was happening. The tweezers she had been holding clattered to the floor. She bent to pick them up quickly, not wanting to alert Fitz. Fitz turned around, though.

"Jemma? How'd you get down there?" He looked genuinely shocked, causing Jemma to feel pin-pricks behind her eyes. She needed to leave the lab before he found out what was happening. Not just the lab, but the Playground. These hallucinations would only get worse, and if he for one moment got confused and doubted his own mind, he would never fully recover. If he lost hope, there would be no chance for him. For them.

"I just- dropped this." She tried not to sound too suspicious. Once she stood, she peeled off her gloves.

"I just need to take a little break," she lied. Not that he would ever know she had lied. Fitz was back to his work before she had even gotten to the door.

"Don't miss me too much," she whispered as the tears began to fall.

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

"Simmons, I'm confused. A month ago you said it would be best if Fitz was kept close to you. Now you're saying you need to leave for him to recover?" Coulson barely looked up from the stack of papers Billy had handed him.

"Sir, I'm certain about this. Trust me. I'm your best scientist." Jemma had taken a day to pack her things and compose herself for her meeting with Director Coulson. Every single time she doubted herself, she mentally repeated the phrase, "For Fitz". She didn't know for certain her feelings for him, but she wanted to give it a chance. Slim chance if Fitz couldn't tell if she was real or not.

"I trust you," Coulson promised the broken girl before him. Despite appearances, he did care about her well-being. He cared about all of his team members' well-being. "Should we be in contact?" he inquired.

"Please, only if he seems normal again," Jemma requested, failing to keep the sadness out of her voice. Coulson nodded respectfully, and signed her temporary release papers. After he had given her them, he clasped her hand.

"If I know you, which I believe I do, Fitz will be fine." Coulson said this lovingly, reminding Jemma of her father, before dropping her hand.

"Thank you, sir," Jemma finished shakily, still trying to convince herself she was making the right choice here. Coulson watched until she left his office, remembering her retreating image for the list of reasons to keep fighting.

Without a single goodbye to Fitz, Jemma slid into the van being driven by Idaho. She didn't know him that well, so not a word was exchanged in her trip to the airport.

Right before the plane made took off, Jemma received a call from Fitz. Despite her better judgement, she answered, wanting to hear his voice to remind her why she was putting up with all this pain.

"Jemma? Where'd you go?" His Scottish accent didn't sound quite right on her phone.

"I'm right here," she whispered, feeling the tears well up. "Don't worry. I won't be gone for long." It didn't matter how long she was away. He wouldn't know. He wouldn't think anything of it. She would have to carry the heartbreak of both of them, alone.

"Jemma? Are you crying?" Fitz asked, concerned.

"No," she lied again. She couldn't stop lying to him now. It was mostly Jemma attempting to pretend it was okay. Because if she pretended well enough, it wouldn't be real.

"Fitz, I'm okay. And you're okay. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. You're almost there. I can feel it."