Fitzsimmons

Stupid Matt

Quick Note: This title is related, I swear. WHAT SHOULD MY 100TH CHAPTER BE??? HELP ME OUT HERE!

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"I'll be over in five minutes," Fitz promised as he re-buttoned his coat. He had just gotten into his dorm after a late evening in the lab. It was raining when he had left, and now it was thunder-storming, and he would honestly rather crawl into bed and watch Back to the Future instead of trek back out, halfway across campus.

It was Simmons. No surprise there. Simmons seemed to have a grip on his life like no one else. She could destroy his meticulously planned schedule with a single phone call. And, although he would deny this, he loved it. He loved whatever Simmons made him feel, whether that was love or a sense of belonging.

He grabbed an umbrella before turning off the lights and exiting the room, already calculating how fast he had to run to make it to her dorm in four minutes. Surely he couldn't possibly make it there fast enough.

He entered the building with a minute to spare, greeted by questioning stares from various girls in the hallway. He climbed three flights of stairs, already out of breath from the run there, and took a moment to compose himself before knocking on the door.

"It's open!" Simmons yelled sadly. Fitz huffed as he entered. He sprinted all the way here and she couldn't even meet him at the door? His anger melted away when he rounded the corner and saw her.

She sat crumpled over on the floor, with a quilt her grandma had made wrapped around her shoulders and a pile of tissues pooling around her. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and she was wearing a huge S.H.I.E.L.D. shirt (one she jad stolen from Fitz) and sweatpants as she kept her teary eyes trained on the movie she was watching. The Princess Bride.

"Simmons?" Fitz approached cautiously. He was both saddened and shocked. He had never seen her like this before, even when one of her time-consuming theories was disproven.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he knelt down. It really was a stupid thing to ask a crying someone. Of course she was not okay. Her face, illuminated by the only the television, was smeared with makeup. Simmons only wore makeup when she was going out on a date with her boyfriend, Matt.

Matt was a respectable, smart, handsome, American gentleman, which made it hard for Fitz to hate him. Naturally, he had to hate the one person that was keeping him from being with Jemma. But Matt was also his excuse. Simmons was dating an overall good person, so there's no reason to tell her Fitz's true feelings.

"M... Ma-" Simmons struggled to tell him through her tears.

"I understand," Fitz spared her, and grabbed her hand. Simmons turned her gaze away from the TV, and practically threw herself at Fitz, dropping the blanket in the process.

"Shhh..." Fitz said soothingly, brushing through her hair with his fingers. Simmons gripped tightly to his shirt and shook in his arms, not able to stop herself. "Calm down. I'm here," Fitz cooed.

Once she had stopped shaking enough to speak, she did. "He just made me feel so stupid." Fitz nodded, pressing his chin against Simmons' head. He had never had a girlfriend before, just awkward dates with Simmons' friends she would set up with, but he knew how she felt. He was rejected by her every day.

"I feel stupid for being this upset over a boy. And for caring so much about him when I knew it wasn't working," Simmons took a deep breath, her eyes still wet.

"I think I might have loved him," she whispered. Fitz felt his throat tighten, and his own eyes began to water.

"Jemma," he started, his voice not quite concealing his pain. Simmons looked at him to make sure he was alright, and Fitz had to conceal everything.

"You are so much more than him," he said sincerely. "You're so much more than this moment in your life. You're intelligent, and you're beautiful, and you're compassionate, and if he can't see that," Fitz had to stop himself from flying into an angry rant. "Then it's his loss, Jemma. I know it's going to be hard to move on, especially since you," he sucked in a breath, then forced the next words out. "Loved him. But I know you, and you will move on and accomplish great things. And I promise I'll be by your side for all of it."

Simmons stared at him for a long time, absorbing his words, then sighed sadly. "Why couldn't he have been more like you?" she asked, then returned her attention to the movie, ducking out of his arms and pulling the quilt back over her.

Fitz stayed motionless, his heart racing and mind exploding with thoughts. His eyes were wide and still trained on Simmons as he tried to calm down before she noticed.

"I love this part," Simmons pointed at the television, then threw a half-grin over her shoulder. Fitz, still frozen in place, hastily smiled back. Simmons didn't notice his nervousness, or if she did, she didn't react.

"Can you get me some popcorn?" she asked after about a half hour of her watching the movie and Fitz nearly dying from Simmons' comment still echoing in his ears.

"As you wish," he said, then stood up and made his way to the kitchenette.

Simmons felt a full-blown smile make its way onto her face. As you wish. He was so good at making her happy.

"I'm lucky to have a friend like you, Fitz," she thanked him as he re-entered the room with the bowl.

"Yeah," Fitz said dejectedly, then handed her the bowl. "As you wish."