Fitzsimmons

Pain of a Fitzsimmons Shipper

Quick Note: This basically describes the pain of a Fitzsimmons shipper.

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"I don't want to be mad at you, Jemma," Fitz said, not looking up from his work on a human cloaking device. Simmons had only just walked into the lab, and with but a half-second glance at her face, Fitz knew what she wanted.

"Not even a 'hello'?" Simmons asked, leaning on the counter and observing his hands work. One was still fairly useless, but the other had grown to be fast because of it.

"I'm sorry, hello!" Fitz said sarcastically, waving his bad hand exaggeratedly. Simmons ignored it.

"What did you mean by not wanting to be mad at me?" she said smoothly, letting his discomfort roll off of her.

"I just meant that I always act like a jerk around you, and that's not my fault," he replied, still avoiding her insistent gaze.

"Well, it's not my fault." Simmons took a step back, offended. "I've been nothing but nice towards you. If I were a reasonable person, I would be avoiding you completely after what you've said." She didn't mean for it to hurt him, or maybe she did. Simmons only wanted to be able to love herself, and Fitz had made it so hard for her to see herself as a good person.

"No!" Fitz shouted, frustrated. "I never said it was your bloody fault."

"I'm confused, then."

Fitz looked up at her, his face showing that he knew what true confusion feels like. How it feels when you start to like your best and only friend. How it feels when you think she's giving you signs, but it could only be your imagination. How it feels when she leaves after you tell her.

"I can't help it. Every time I see you, my mind has a war against itself. It says I hate you for leaving me. It says I love you despite that. So I just ice you out. Better to hate than to love and be let down."

Simmons didn't know how to respond. She couldn't make false promises, but she couldn't continue without Fitz. So, although it wouldn't help anything and she'd only feel stupid later, she cried.

"Jemma," Fitz said quickly and concernedly, reaching out a hand, but dropping it before he could touch her. It was a plea for her to stop crying. Even when they weren't on good terms, Fitz wanted her to be her happiest. So Simmons started crying more.

"Jemma, please," Fitz tried to stay sternly. It came out weakly.

"I should go," Simmons managed through her tears. It was useless, though, because he had already seen her crying.

The dilemma was that they couldn't survive with each other, and they couldn't survive with each other. Not until Fitz fell out of love or Jemma fell in love.

And they both knew they could coincide beautifully if they only wanted to.