Paralysis
Fitz broke the surface of the portal--or rather, opened his eyes back to reality. His legs went soft under him and he nearly collapsed under the weight of the Framework.
He had--he had done all those...things in that world. He had--
Jemma.
The gunshot went off in his mind again.
Jemma.
She was--
He slid out of the machine’s monitors, body limp.
The world tilted and spun as his mind sorted through both lives--the last moment echoing through his mind with a skull-cracking force.
His face was slack and his wide eyes were already burning with tears as he stumbled forward, breathing heavily.
No.
No.
No.
This couldn't be real. She couldn't be--she couldn't actually be--
His heart felt like it was being torn in half and pulled up through his throat in one giant, sickening lump.
He had pulled that trigger.
Because of him, Mace was dead. Because of him, Agnes was dead. Because of him, Jemma was--
He couldn’t bring himself to think it.
His skin was cold and damp with fear, and though he didn't register the chill, he trembled.
He hardly processed Coulson’s form rushing to steady him as he lurched forward, and he backed away, grabbing onto a counter to keep from falling over as his vision swam darkly.
“It’s okay.” Coulson told him, voice steady and firm as he took Fitz’s shuddering wrist and placed his hand on Fitz’s shoulder. The torn scientist looked at him with wide, red eyes of disbelief, still trying to back away. “We’re back. Everybody’s safe.”
“No--Simmons.” Was all Fitz could muster in reply, voice weak and shaking. His throat was tight and dry, burning with emotion and tears. His eyes were unsteady, gaze unfocused and jumpy.
He couldn’t bring himself to explain further. He couldn't bring himself to do anything. Couldn't make his brain focus on anything--anything besides the echoing gunshot that rang in his ears.
“Don’t blame yourself,” Coulson held Fitz in place, trying to get through to the trembling man before him. “The Framework messed with all of our heads. That wasn’t you in there.” His voice was calm and reassuring, but Fitz was barely making out Coulson’s words over the roaring hurricane inside his mind.
“N-no, no--I-I-I killed--” Fitz felt his throat tighten with emotion, and he bent over, unable to breathe--or unwilling to.
“They weren’t real.” Coulson’s voice was kind and firm, but he was wrong. He was wrong and Fitz knew it.
He had killed them; Agnes, and Mace, and--J--no. NO. He couldn’t--
His panicked breaths caught in his throat as a figure clothed in white floated into the room.
“Leopold!” The woman chuckled, spreading her arms to show off her real-ness.
Suddenly his mind was yanked back to his work in the other world. He had invented a machine to build a human body for--
“Ophelia...?” His voice was tight as he spoke the name that only the Doctor had used before. She was here now--no longer an android. She was real.