Flashback
SHIELD Academy of Science and Technology, September 10th 2005.
Simmons could hardly believe it had been over a year since she’d joined the Academy; Sci-Tech felt as much a part of her now as London ever did. Her eyes glanced across to Fitz who was sitting uncomfortably, nursing a bottle of cider in one hand while making idle chat with one of their other classmates. They were in one of the would-be quieter common rooms that branched off from the main hub of the Boiler Room; it would be quitter had they not spent the last couple of hours getting steadily tipsier and rowdier to celebrate Fitz completing his first private assignment. They weren’t allowed to know what it was but whatever he’d invented had clearly made him popular with the higher ups who had given him a very generous new bursary and a private, significantly larger, lab space – as well as a couple of weeks of vacation. Fitz ought to have been delighted and yet, for some reason, he was not. Other people hadn’t noticed – after all he was smiling, cracking jokes and generally being affable but she knew him well enough to see straight through his charade, he wasn’t happy. Surrounded as they were by a couple of dozen friends and acquaintances she couldn’t ask him what was wrong and found herself wishing the evening would end early. She was shaken out of thoughts by the drunken antics of some of their less restrained peers.
“Never have I ever…” One of their classmates called out, slurring slightly and gripping a bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey, “had sex in the lab.” There was a mixed chorus of grumbles and excited murmurs as he then took a drink. Two other guys drank as well as one of the girls, Anne, who blushed slightly as the group erupted in drunken laughter at the admissions.
“John you little liar you have not–” One of the girls Simmons didn’t know shouted out. The girl was probably one of Fitz’s friends and it made her a little annoyed she didn’t know her name. She knew she really ought to have made more of an effort to learn the names of his other friends, he knew all of hers – though admittedly, there were less of them to know and he had always been better at those kinds of details than she had. It was too late to ask them now, she sighed, vowing to make Fitz tell her who everybody was later.
“I totally have… with Sarah…” The guy who started the game, now identified as John, said loudly and got a thump on his shoulder from the girl sat next to him who Simmons, therefore, assumed must be Sarah.
“Never have I ever filled out a lab report drunk,” Anne said in a desperate bid to defuse the tension. It was a smart one to say as almost everybody had to take a drink except, Simmons noted, herself and Fitz. The latter of whom had stood up and was making his way towards the door.
“Never have I ever had a one night stand.” An obviously hammered guy sitting beside Sarah said. Like some of the others in the group he drank, downing his pint before announcing with a slight burp, “It’s a long list!” A couple of people smirked but since he hadn’t been invited amongst them and was there through mutual friends it felt awkward.
As he opened another can of beer John muttered to him cautiously, “I think you’ve had enough James.”
James ignored him and leered forward, gripping Sarah’s thigh possessively, “What do you say darling?” He drawled, the smell of alcohol heavy from him, “Want to make that list longer? And something else?”
John stood up and rounded on James. If they weren’t careful it could have escalated into a full blown fight but Sarah calmly removed James’ hand and said, “I don’t think you could satisfy a gal like me champ.” The ensuing laughter diffused the tension in the room and, after a couple of moments John sat back down. James held up his hands as though surrendering and lent backwards into the armchair he was sat on.
“Never have I ever tried to slip away from my own party,” someone to Simmons’ left said and all eyes fell on Fitz whose face flushed with embarrassment. He had got halfway to the door during the commotion between James and Sarah.
“I was just going to get another drink.” Fitz mumbled and gestured to his admittedly mostly empty cider.
“No need for that.” John passed him an unopened bottle of Scottish Whiskey, while Jon could be an arse when drunk, he was quite thoughtful sober and had been meaning to give the bottle as a congratulations to Fitz. “Well done Leo, on whatever it is you did.”
Fitz graciously accepted the drink and unscrewed the lid and poured himself a glass. “Thank you John.”
“I know it’s not my go but never have I ever been to Scotland.” John said with a grin and winked at Fitz. Fitz took a sip and coughed slightly, it was evidently stronger than he’d expected – something that John took enormous delight in.
“Never have I ever… discovered an element.” One of Fitz’s engineer friends said. All heads turned to Fitz, including Jemma’s, as he raised his glass towards his lips.
Fitz broke into a broad grin and laughed, lowering his glass without drinking from it, “I didn’t discover a new element guys.” He seemed very at ease around these people Jemma noted.
“Never have I ever created a robot.” Somebody suggested to the great dismay of the entire group. Who after all hadn’t built one of those?
The evening continued in this manner for quite some time, after a couple more guesses at Fitz’s private assignment they settled for more generic ones and pretty soon, having run out of those, they started saying ones with engaging stories behind them. Several hours must have passed this way, with Fitz’s whisky now a third empty and him looking decidedly drunk, when the game began again. After a few simple place ones like South America, Europe, Asia and others one of Simmon’s friends, Jess, spoke up.
“Never have I ever been to England,” She offered in an attempt to help Simmons catch up with the others. Jess was there as a courtesy to her by Fitz, he knew they didn’t know many of the same people so wanted her to bring someone she definitely got on with. Truthfully, although Simmons would always appreciate Fitz being her first friend at Sci-Tech she didn’t see that much of him on a day to day basis: the engineering and biochemistry students spent most of the days in different Faculties, only sharing some lectures. Noticing they had turned to look at her she sipped from her drink.
“Two fingers, you’re supposed to take two fingers!” James called out from his armchair after a surprisingly long period of silence. While it was true Jemma didn’t drink the normal amount they were only playing the game for fun and many others had drunk less than that in the evening in order to make the alcohol last longer. Wanting to avoid making another scene during Fitz’s celebration she made an overly theatrical gesture of putting her two fingers below the surface of the alcohol and drinking a little more.
“Happy?” She quipped sarcastically, making it clear she didn’t particular care what he thought.
“No, I’m not,” James leered as his mouth twisted up into a malicious grin. “I think you could fit in more than two fingers.”
Fitz stood up in protest, immediately followed by John – though whether John stood up to protest with Fitz or simply prop him up Simmons didn’t know because Fitz was leaning on him so much. She had never seen Fitz drunk before and, given how shaky he was, she suspect it was his first time drinking so much.
“Piss off James.” Fitz spat out at him as though he were expelling poison, the alcohol knocked him into a much heavier Scottish accent – more like the one he had when they first met, the one that he’d spent almost a year distancing himself from. To Jemma’s surprise Fitz looked genuinely furious, it was likely just the alcohol affecting him but he really did look ready to lash out at James – she was no longer sure if John was holding Fitz up or holding him back, probably a mixture of the two.
James rose to his feet and held his hands up in the same sorry-not-sorry gesture he had done earlier, “It’s just a joke Fitz.” He offered a normal smile and for a moment tensions ebbed. As Fitz reluctantly turned to sit back down, largely spurred on by John trying to avoid a fight, James added, “Besides who am I kidding, she’s so uptight you’d hardly get one fing–”
Fitz punched him, hard.
Everything afterwards happened ridiculously fast and it was only when Jemma stood up that she noticed how drunk she was as well – she had gotten through almost a bottle of wine on her own and had never been what people would call a heavyweight. James rugby tackled Fitz into the ground and began a fray of limbs as people around them, equally drunk, tried to separate and untangle the two of them from each other. Despite scoring the first blow Fitz struck the back of his head against the floor when he hit the ground and lost the capability to do anything but lash out wildly and blindly. James quickly got the better of him, though not before he sustained a couple of rather painful kicks from Fitz. James retaliated with a couple of wild punches and, despite Fitz’s best efforts, probably would have won had John not eventually succeeded in pulling the fight apart.
John turned to James, anger flashing in his eyes, “I swear to God James if you don’t go, NOW, I’ll…” He screwed his fist into a ball and held it up as a warning, seemingly too angry and drunk to finish his own threat.
James wrenched himself free of the grasps of those around him and stormed to the door yelling as series of curses as he left. His cheek had already shown signs of severe bruising and blood dripped from behind split lips. The moment James had left the room John visibly relaxed and leant against the back of an armchair to hold his body up. But if James had looked bad, Fitz was worse. Simmons didn’t know when she did it but at some point she made her way over to him and knelt down at his side, handing him some tissues to clean up the blood. Her gut twisted uncomfortably.
“I take it I lost,” Fitz joked with a pained laugh from the floor, accepting the tissues from her to wipe some of the blood away and struggling into a sitting position.
“Your first punch was good,” John told him truthfully from over Simmons’ shoulder before they both helped him stand, “But after that well I’m afraid it all kind of, fell apart.” They both laughed, allowing Jemma to catch a glimpse of Fitz’s now red teeth. She felt instinctively guilty, figuring that if she hadn’t been there then Fitz’s party would still be alright. John turned to her, “Can you get him to his room?” He asked and, when she nodded, added “Oh, and give him some ice… for his head… I’m going to go find that bastard James.”
It took a lot longer than she expected to get from the Boiler Room to Fitz’s dorm, not only because Fitz could hardly stand from either the alcohol or the concussion but also because she was only barely able to hold her balance herself. It certainly was not their proudest moment, the two geniuses from Great Britain stumbling round the different corridors at the dead of night. At one point they had to turn back when they realised they’d got off on the wrong floor entirely. When at last she propped him against the wall outside his door she asked him for his keys but, with one hand steadying himself and the other pushing a block of ice to his head (they’d got it from behind the Boiler Room bar instead of First Aid, otherwise they’d have to file an incident report), when he tried to take them out he almost fell over. In the end Jemma had to fish them out from his pocket, only realising afterwards how close she had been to touching him there.
“I’m sorry Leo.” She said as she fumbled with his keys, not able to line them up with the lock even using both her hands.
“Don’t be.” He replied softly, adjusting the ice on his head and wincing slightly.
“If I didn’t come you could still be down there.” She told him, finally unlocking the door and helping him towards his bed.
“Then thank Christ you did,” he joked, offering an endearing smile, “Besides,” He groaned as she helped him sit on the bed, “You were the only one I really wanted there…” A look of panic crossed his face and he quickly added, “Well maybe John too.”
She smiled at him, drunk and beaten up as he was, and made them both a glass of water from the tap in his en-suite. After they drank it, Fitz spilling some of his down his chin in the process, she pulled his shoes off and helped him under the covers.
“Not exactly a heroic sight!” He laughed as she pulled the covers over his shoulders. “I won’t exactly be a field agent if I have to be tucked in after a fight against James fucking Benson!”
She smirked – Fitz must be drunk in order to swear, or admit that he still wanted to be a field agent. She found it kind of sweet; he was normally so introverted that it made a pleasant change to see the much stronger side to him. “What’s more heroic, to win a fight you know you can win or to fight and lose but know you did what’s right?”
“Ask me again when I don’t have a headache,” Fitz groaned and pulled adjusted the ice block then, deciding he’d come up with something funnier, he added, “Are there any heroic scenarios that don’t involve losing?”
She let out a chuckle of laughter and instinctively wet one of her fingers with her tongue, using it to wipe away a bit of blood she’d missed earlier. Fitz pulled a face as if to say he was disgusted. She shot him a fake look of irritation but neither could hold the dead pan act for long and within moments they were both smiling again.
“What time is it?” He asked her blearily, the weight of the alcohol and pain hitting him.
She realised she genuinely had no idea and checked her phone, a brand new Nokia 3410 her parents had sent from England for completing he first year, “It’s just gone half two.”
“Already? Well, Happy Birthday then Jem.” Fitz said with a sigh as he tried to make himself more comfortable in his bed, missing his softer mattress in Scotland.
“It’s not my birthday until tom- oh, I guess it is then.” Simmons said, surprised that Fitz had remembered before she did. There was an amiable pause between them as Simmons checked the bruises on his cheek and back of his head to make sure he hadn’t broken anything in the fight. They were very close together.
“Will you stay?” Her heart skipped a beat, unsure of what exactly he was asking and yet, for some reason, before she had time to even think it though she answered.
“Yes.”
“Thanks Jem.”
Jemma turned off the light and lay down next to him; they both stared at the ceiling. Heat radiated from Fitz and he smelt quite strongly of the whiskey he’d been drinking all night. She was beginning to get nervous and desperately wanted to break the tension between them so simply said the first thing that came to her mind.
“The Tenth Doctor’s Scottish, you know. I still can’t believe Christopher Eccleston only stayed for one series though. We finally get the show back and he bows out after just 13 episodes.” Impossibly the tension between them rose slightly as Fitz didn’t say anything for almost a minute. When he did speak his words were quite quiet and nervous.
“Simmons?” He asked.
“Yes.” She replied anxiously, unsure of where this was going.
“I’m going back to Scotland tomorrow, for the vacation they gave me.”
“That’ll be nice.” She said still uncertain of what he was asking. “When’s your flight?”
“Not til the evening… would you like to come with me?” He asked, noticeably tensing as he asked as though preparing himself for her to make fun of him.
“I’d love to,” She said honestly, after all he had said that one day he would bring her to Scotland almost a year ago, “But I can’t.”
“Other plans?” He asked, trying to hide his obvious disappointment.
“Work.” She said, realising she had started smiling and enjoying the fact that the tension had been broken. She nudged him in the shoulder and laughed, adding, “We don’t all get to take holiday you know. I’ll be cooped up in my cramped lab space while you get to return home.”
He laughed and then paused, looking over to her. She couldn’t see that’s what he’d done, it was too dark, but she knew he had. “Jemma?” He asked, and all of the tension that had just been relieved flooded straight back between them again. Her heart pounded in her chest.
“Yes.”
“What if you didn’t have to work in your lab?”
The penny dropped.
“Fitz?” She said, unsure if she was asking him a question or just saying it because she didn’t know what else to say.
“The new lab; the one for completing the assignment, it’s huge, Jem. They asked me if I wanted anyone to move into it with me and, well, I was hoping that maybe you might want to do that?” He trailed off, nerves evident in his voice.
“You want us to work together?” She asked incredulously, she knew that he would be able to request another lab partner but assumed he’d pick an engineer. Even though they didn’t spend a great deal of time around each other, when they did they just seemed to fit together.
“Only if you want to,” He mumbled in a way that made it sound like he’d just offered up his head into a guillotine and was waiting to see if she’d drop the rope.
“What about what I’m working on? I can’t just drop it.” She said, thinking pragmatically. She realised by inference she’d already said yes and was just trying to work out how to transition.
“They’ll move it over to the new lab, write a list of all the equipment you need and they’ll give it to us.” He told her, relieved that she hadn’t immediately dismissed the idea.
“Any equipment at all? How much money have they given you?” She asked, her mind racing with ideas of how she could further her research with some of the newer machines they don’t let anyone under fifth year use.
“A lot.” He said with a slight chuckle.
“What did you do for them?” She asked, even though she knew he wouldn’t say.
“If you work with me, I can show you.” He teased, knowing he’d caught her interest.
“If I said yes, what happens next?” She asked, turning to look at him. She could just about make out his eyes glinting.
“It’ll take them another couple of weeks for the lab to be ready so until it’s done you’d be on vacation like me.” His voice was full of hope.
She was silent for a while, lost in thought. Leo Fitz was the most welcoming, wonderful and all round comforting person she’d ever met, they’d worked together in the past though only on small projects and they had a chemistry she’d never felt with anyone else. He was by far the smartest person in Sci-Tech and even though he could have chosen anybody, including older students, he chose her. Something about him was just so right – his tufts of brown hair, soft Scottish accent, eyes full of promise and heart full of kindness. There really was only one answer.
“Ok.” She finally said, quietly.
“Ok?” Fitz asked, wanting to make sure he’d heard her right.
“Of course I will Fitz.”
He beamed, not that she could see of course.
“What time was your flight again?” Jemma asked him, looking for a more specific answer.
“About half past ten, in the evening.” He said, hoping it meant what he thought it did.
“Give me the day to gather up my things from the Biochem Faculty and write that list of equipment and I’d love to come to Scotland with you.”
“We should come up with a name for the Lab.” Fitz only half joked, his excitement evident to Simmons. She wondered just how long he’d been working up the courage to ask her.
“What kind of name?” She smiled, humouring him.
“Something personal like… JeLe, from Jemma and Leo – you know, like Jelly.” He said childishly, evidently still quite tipsy, even if he had sobered up a bit.
“Oh yes,” Simmons mocked, “Welcome to the Jelly Lab, we’re scientists Leo, we work at SHIELD not Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.”
“Well what do you think we should call it?” Fitz asked, ever so slightly petulantly.
She paused for a moment, and thought hard. “What about just Fitzsimmons’ Lab?”
“Fitzsimmons, eh?” Leo said with a yawn, evidently considering it as he closed his eyes, “it’s very formal though.”
“It’s professional,” Simmons answered.
“Is that what we are? Professional?” Fitz asked as sleep began to overtake him. In the years to come, though, he would claim to not remember asking that question.
“Some of the time.” She answered quietly with a mischievous grin known only to herself. Fitz had already started snoring by the time she finished; it didn’t long for her to join him in sleep.
36 Hours after the BUS explosion…
Coulson was alone, sat in an empty hospital waiting room; his hands trembled around a cup of coffee that had long since got cold. He didn’t even remember if he had got it for himself or it had been given to him, his mind was locked in thought. After the BUS was shot out of the air they had little choice but to call for help – even if they’d gotten Fitz and Skye back to the Playground they didn’t have enough medical staff to treat both of them at the same time. It had meant making an impossible choice. He’d been forced to request assistance from Colonel Talbot who agreed, somewhat reluctantly, to take either Skye or Fitz and treat their wounds on the condition that he be brought up to speed on why they were headed to Puerto Rico in the first place. Coulson had no way of knowing who to hand over to Talbot and absolutely no idea how to explain that a sprawling, potentially dangerous-in-an-end-of-the-world-kind-of-way, alien city was buried under the island. New York meant that aliens weren’t exactly a secret, but it was one thing to be attacked in the present and quite another to admit that humanity’s history was predated and interfered with by them – even with Thor and Loki’s existence now widely known.
He turned his choice over in his mind still unable to think through a better alternative. He couldn’t afford to lose Fitz or Skye: even in Fitz’s condition he had demonstrated intellect, bravery and survival instinct in Haiti that had astounded Coulson, not only was he an extremely valuable asset, the team would cease to function without him. Coulson wasn’t oblivious to the relationship between FitzSimmons and between Fitz and Mack, and Fitz and Skye. Even Koenig spoke fondly of Fitz, and Koenig seldom spoke fondly of anyone. And then there was Skye, under May’s guidance she was not simply just an irreplaceable SHIELD agent but as an 084 it was essential Talbot not get his hands on her. Additionally, while he didn’t want to admit it, in the months since he met Skye he had started to see himself as a father figure to her – a rather complicated feeling to have given how dangerous her actual father was. But still, had he made the right call? To give Fitz to Talbot, it made him sick to think about it. There was a time when SHIELD was well funded enough that he could’ve treated a hundred wounded men at the Playground or any number of bases but that time had long since passed. They were understaffed, underfunded and it was either give Fitz up and trust Talbot, or watch him die. The sad truth was, he may have to watch Fitz die either way, his wounds were severe and Skye, who regained consciousness briefly on the flight back, warned that he’d used his serum again to try and save them both.
Worse yet, giving Fitz up meant losing Simmons as well; she refused to leave his side for as long as possible, she had to be held back by Morse while Fitz was lifted onto the air ambulance and refused to sleep until they were reunited. So here Coulson was, sitting in some hospital waiting room while HYDRA had a weapon of untold power and half his team was incapacitated. Nothing had changed about their mission objective – the city was still there and whatever HYDRA was planning to do with it and the obelisk had to be stopped. He felt guilty admitting it, but he had hoped Simmons, knowing she couldn’t help Fitz just by being at the hospital, would take her minds of things by throwing herself into work but she didn’t. Instead she paced, sat, cried and poured over Fitz’s charts whenever she could get the chance. Coulson had never seen her like this, not even when Fitz collapsed at the Playground did Simmons react like this. True then, as now, she barely left him but even there she took breaks to shower, eat and sleep, things she hadn’t done since they arrived the day before. Coulson sighed, two floors down they were preparing a room for him and Talbot to speak in – Coulson had refused to leave Simmons alone in the building so would hold their conversation about the alien city there. After that Mack would relieve him so he could take command at the Playground again and formulate their next move against HYDRA, with what little force they could muster.
One saving grace, at least, was Fitz’s boldness in Haiti. HYDRA had expected the SHIELD team to be easy to take out, they certainly hadn’t expected to encounter anything like the resistance Fitz showed and the death toll from his two IEDs and his shooting had been catastrophic to them. From just the initial sweep of the area Talbot revealed they found some thirty four bodies – even to an organisation as vast and well-funded as HYDRA, after losing the battle at the Triskellion and the battle for the HUB, they couldn’t take such losses lightly. In a surprising act of caution Whitehall had recalled his men to regroup, unprepared to fight a guerrilla war against such seemingly well-equipped SHIELD agents at that cost. What was actually a devastating HYDRA victory appeared to all but Coulson and his team as at the very least a stalemate if not an outcome to SHIELD’s advantage. After their first debriefing Talbot originally commended Coulson, even if it came in a do you have any idea the diplomatic mess you’ve caused sort of way… Nonetheless, Coulson found himself grateful he’d worked out an arrangement with Talbot, he’d turned out to be an extremely valuable ally on more than one occasion now. And with him on board they were better prepared to fight HYDRA than they ever had been before; whatever else his shortcomings the man had jets, money, influence and men at a time when they had almost none of that. It made him sick to admit it, but they really needed Talbot.
A chill ran through him, as cold as his cup of coffee, and Coulson realised he couldn’t shake the horrendous thought that, no matter what comes next, a whole lot more people are going to die.